


NEON

by reddishlight



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Angst if this is updated at night, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff if this is updated during the day, Gen, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-06 21:39:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17947577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddishlight/pseuds/reddishlight
Summary: What does it take to bring a city to its knees? A couple of idiots, too much free time, and a well-stocked armory, apparently.





	1. The Days

[ The Days by Avicii ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDglMK9sgIQ)

 

     There was wild cackling in everyone’s headsets directly preceding the sound of an explosion in the distance. “Fuckin’ nice,” Daiki murmured as he looked back to see Art fire a rocket at a police helicopter.

 

     Huny swerved around the falling debris on their motorcycle, a pink machine gun in one hand that was firing wildly at the police cars chasing them. “Watch it!” they called, tires screeching as they changed directions. The cops tailing them had more difficult of a time taking the corner, and some slammed into the side of a building.

 

     Spork checked the map to track who was going where and, more importantly, who was being tailed by the most cops. “Uh Red?” she said, “You’ve got more cops on Grand trying to cut you off.”

 

     Red swore and Spork watched her dot pick up speed until it barely cleared the incoming police jam. “Thanks,” she called out, jerking the wheel hard. Looking behind her, Kuro lowered the side window to lob a handful of grenades out. “Please don’t drop one in my car,” she said, eyes turning back to the road and planning the next loop around the city.

 

     “You act like I’ve done it before,” Kuro complained, but there was no heat behind their words. They methodically switched explosives, primed the C4, and dropped it out the window. Once a car got close enough, they hit a button on the remote and the block lit up in flames. “I only blew up your car once.”

 

     Egg’s laugh lit up the comms. “Yeah, and Red told me to hunt you down over it,” they said. They were about to regale the others on _how_ Egg caught Kuro, but they gasped as a bullet ripped their motorcycle tires apart. “Bee!” they called out. [Leaning hard right, they rolled off the motorcycle and let it plow into the shooter.](https://youtu.be/lX44CAz-JhU?t=163) As they took cover behind a parked car and drew their gun, they waved Bee down.

 

     Bee shouted, “yeah!” before she whipped out a gun to give Egg cover fire. “Get on,” she said, sights aimed at head level. Once Egg slung their leg over Bee’s bike, she floored it and skidded across the street, over a guard rail, and up the mountain. They hooted in glee, sometimes catching air after a particularly vicious rock, but they were having the time of their lives.

 

     Their good cheer was infectious, as always, and everyone reflexively smiled. “600 feet,” Daiki said, reading the altimeter. “About to head into open water.”

 

     Spork nodded her head before remembering no one could see her. “You’ve got two copters tai--”

 

     There was a whistling noise from someone’s comm, and then a dot disappeared from her map. “--you’ve got one copter tailing you,” she amended.

 

     Art chuckled and he kneeled down to look at the beach retreating and giving way to the blue green ocean. “You’re welcome,” he said, a smug grin on his face.

 

     “Yeah, yeah,” Spork said with a smile. “Also, Hun, you’re on camera right now.” Spork always had one monitor in her office playing the local news. She said it was to keep track of who was about to be cornered, but everyone had the feeling that she liked the drama of who got the most screen time. It was usually Red, because she was the getaway driver, or Daiki, because he was the getaway flier. Sometimes it was Bee and she always beamed when the current newscaster called her a menace.

 

     “Good,” Huny said, flipping up their middle finger with their free hand. Spork laughed as she saw it on camera, a second before it got blurred out. “How am I looking?”

 

     “Sexy, but not like we’re trying to,” Bee said, voice wild as the incline increased on the mountainside, “but like, sure we’re trying, but it’s almost effortless.”

 

     “Thank you, Detective Peralta,” Red said dryly.

 

     “It was actually Gina,” Kuro corrected her. They were running low on explosives so they shifted to their gun. As they pulled it out of the holster, they saw a faint outline of a dick on the barrel. “Hey, who drew a dick on my gun?”

 

     The silence was damning and it finally broke when Bruise laughed. “You left it on the kitchen table,” she confessed. She was in the outdoor seating area to a cafe she knew Red would have to passby. She knew Soup was on an adjacent building’s rooftop with a sniper rifle in one hand and a soda in the other. “It was too easy.”

 

     Soup huffed a laugh. “She looked over her shoulder like ten times to make sure you wouldn’t catch her.”

 

     “Hey,” Bruise complained, “they didn’t catch me.” She traced her finger along the gun in her purse. Ideally, Bruise and Soup wouldn’t need to intervene, but if too many cars were following Red, then they would draw their weapons and take some out. Still, she was on guard even as she sipped at her mug of hot chocolate.

 

     Currently, the money they just stole from a billionaire’s house was split evenly among Dart and Dread. Huny and Eee were the distraction, meant to weave through side streets more easily because of their motorcycles. The cops would get thinned out until they gave up or no one could keep up and honestly, with the state of the LSPD, Neon wasn’t holding their breaths.

 

     Phase two of the heist would involve...redistributing the wealth. Dread would drive down to the neighboring counties and throw money out the windows of the poorer communities. Dart would swap from a helicopter to a jet to fly across the country and dump the rest of the money. Of course, Neon would keep a share just to maintain the costs of heisting, but 80% would go back to the people.

 

     Hopefully.

 

     “Gimme your statuses, everyone,” Red said, noting that fewer and fewer cars were tailing her.

 

     “Pretty much clear,” Daiki said. Art already took care of the last helicopter and they were making a wide loop around the port and were en route to a private hangar in San Andreas.

 

     “We’re at the top of Chilliad,” Bee said. She looked at the city, her city, and smiled. The sun was just beginning to set and it bathed the city in an golden haze. “No cops around us.”

 

     “And I’m sitting pretty comfy in this alley as…” Huny trailed off. They watched a police car zip by full speed and completely miss them ducking behind their motorcycle in the shadows. “...as the last of the cops passes me.”

 

     “And Kuro and I are about to lose ours if we get on the freeway and swerve onto the next available exit,” Red said.

 

     Everyone held their breaths before Spork said, “C’mon, say it, boss.”

 

     Smiling, Red said, “good job everyone.”

 

     There were cheers in the comm and Red’s smile widened. She checked behind her one last time and the lone police car was already in the process of pulling over and giving up. Taking a right turn, she actually flipped on her turn signal and drove into the plaza. “Bruise, Soup,” she said to get their attention. “Come here.”

 

     Bruise finished her drink and left a $20 on the table for the waitress. Her purse slung over her shoulder easily and she half turned to see if Soup already left his perch.

 

     Packing up his rifle in a guitar case, Soup put it on like a backpack and climbed down the side of the building on an emergency ladder. “Didn’t do anything today,” he said.

 

     “That’s a good thing,” Red responded. Kuro packed up the unused explosives and scooted to one side in the back seats. “Bruise is taking shotgun.”

 

     Bruise lingered at the street corner outside the cafe to wait for Soup to catch up. They sauntered up to the car together and got in. “To home?”

 

     “To home,” Red confirmed.

 

     “Everyone,” she said, “make sure to clean up any leftover messes and then meet back at penthouse by tomorrow morning for final wrap ups.”

 

     The crew chimed in their agreements in varying degrees of enthusiasm. A group of young adults with itchy trigger fingers and authority issues were not excited over boardroom meetings and stuff. That’s why they left it up to Red, who enjoyed being organized. “I’ll buy doughnuts,” she added as an afterthought.

 

     At that, everyone cheered again. She knows her crew and loves her crew and will happily bribe them with pastries if it meant that they could meet up on time. It was a successful heist and she was looking forward to whatever tomorrow brought because she knew that her crew had each others’ backs.


	2. The Lazer Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh shit oh fuck oh NO"

     There’s a boom in the distance and Red immediately pulls out her phone to call Kuro. “What the fuck did you do?” is the first thing out of her mouth.

 

     “Uh, what?” Kuro asks, eyebrow shooting up, “I’m at the beach with Bee and Egg.”

 

     “Oh, never mind then,” Red says.

 

     “I think it’s Daiki and Art,” Kuro says. They wave Bee and Egg over before they realize Bee buried Egg in the sand. “Whatever that explosion was, it was probably them.”

 

     “Thanks, Kuro.”

 

     Red hangs up and then dials Daiki. She paces around the living room to look for the TV remote. “Heyo, Daiki,” she greets.

 

     “What’s up?”

 

     “Are you in trouble,” Red asks, “did you cause that explosion in the distance?”

 

     Daiki considers fucking with her, but sets the thought aside at her tone. “No, Art and I are in Italy,” he says. There’s a muffled conversation on the other end before Daiki removes his hand from the speaker. “Art says he left the memo on your desk while you were asleep.”

 

     Blushing, Red says, “oh yeah, I got it...I just forgot.”

 

     Daiki laughs. “Sure you did.”

 

     “Thanks, asshole,” Red says but there’s an obvious smile in her voice. “Have fun and stay safe.”

 

     Daiki says bye and Red hears Art shout bye also.

 

     So if Chaos^3 and Team Dart aren’t the culprits, then maybe Huny? Red clicks through her contacts but Huny’s name immediately fills the screen. “Hey, I was just about to call you,” Red says.

 

     “Are you heisting without me?” Huny accuses. “I thought we weren’t doing a job until we got back.”

 

     Red physically takes a step back. “Wait, that isn’t you?”

 

     “No, I’m in New York with the kids,” they say. “But it’s all over the news that someone raided Zancudo.”

 

     Finally finding the TV remote, Red clicks it on and the sound of gunshots fills the room. She squints through the smoke, as if it’ll help, and says, “It’s not me, Chaos, or Dart.”

 

     There’s a pause on Huny’s end as they pull their phone away from their ear and begin tapping. “I’ll try pulling some strings to figure it out.”

 

     “No, you have your own mission; I’ll give you a rundown once I find out.”

 

     Huny hums in thought. “Okay, but I want to be the first to know.”

 

     “Will do.”

 

     “Is that Jenn?” Soup asks.

 

     “Hi Jenn!” Bruise shouts.

 

     “The kids say hi,” Huny says with a smile on their face. “But we really gotta go now; later Red.”

 

     The call clicks off and Red sits on the couch. If it isn’t her crew, who the _fuck_ thought they could blow up _their_ territory and think they can get away with it?

 

     They fought for this city; they bled and cried and screamed until they could call Los Santos ‘theirs’ so whoever had the balls to put up a fight better be ready to put their money where their mouth is.

 

     Tuning back into the news report, Red sets the TV to record as the news anchor says, “there are reports of police casualties and explosions down Main Street.”

 

     Main Street was uncomfortably close to the penthouse and Red made a mental note to hire a clean up crew and fix the street so her and her crew could still use it.

 

     “Initial eye witnesses say this is nothing like they’ve seen before.”

 

     The smoke in the video parts and Red can barely make out a familiarly masked driver.

 

     The interview cuts too quickly to a harried looking man. He’s wide eyed and talking with his hands as much as his mouth. “I couldn’t believe it,” he stammers out, “it’s the Fakes.”

 

     Red actually gasps as the camera cuts back to the carnage. Lo and behold, a recognizable cowboy hat is run over on the ground and there’s a leather jacket wearing man with a minigun raining bullets down the street. He’s shouting and a car swerves around the corner and passes him.

 

     A man in a suit leans out of the window and takes potshots at the trailing police cars. He seems to be laughing and the woman driving laughs along.

 

     Surely, somewhere behind the scenes, there’s a man with golden aviators on a laptop coordinating everyone. She doesn’t know where, but she knows he’s there.

 

     “Oh, god,” she says. She shouts at the home phone system to dial everyone in the crew, using the emergency line. As all the calls pick up, everyone saying their own secret password to activate the call, she nearly yells, “The Fake AH Crew is back.”


	3. (Red) Interrogation

     “So, in my defense, the explosion wasn’t my fault,” Red began. She scooted forward in her chair, her handcuffs scratching forward on the metal table. As she took in the room, one detective and one guard off in the corner, she settled in for a bit of storytelling.

 

     “You got my team and I’d like them released, please,” she said.

 

     “You’re not in any position to negotiate,” the detective responded. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. The leader of NEON was never known for being in the front lines, so the fact that they caught her is a victory in and of itself.

 

     “If you lay a hand on them, I will skin you and use your leather as a holster for my gun.”

 

     “…noted.”

 

     Satisfied, she tilted her head from side to side and there was an audible crack. She barely felt the sensor under her skin shift and signal that it picked up on her movement to activate. Now, it was all a waiting game. “Where are we going to start?”

 

     “Let’s start with the planning phase,” the detective said. His name tag read _D. White_. “How did you get the blueprints for the MAZE bank?”

 

     “I had the floor plan available online and walking around inside gave me a good sense of the structural supports,” Red said. “After that, it was all good guess work.”

 

     “The vaults though? The security system was disabled internally before everything went down,” White said. “You had to have someone inside to do that and even then, they would need to have accessed the maintenance computers.”

 

     “We both know how hard it is to catch Kuro,” Red smirked. “In and out like a ghost with the program I wrote on a USB. A quick plug in and hit Enter.”

 

     “You really do it all, don’t you?” White asked. “Because we have no records of you ever receiving specialized training like this.”

 

     “What records do you think you have of me?” Red asked. She counted the minutes in her head until the subdermal EMP she installed at the nape of her neck would activate. About five minutes left.

 

     “Your real name is Carmen,” White said, a smug grin on his face. “You’re from Italy.”

 

     “Last name?” Red asked, mirroring his posture.

 

     “Merlot.”

 

     “Hmm, and I _do_ love myself a fine vintage,” she hummed appreciatively. “Fine _red_ wine.”

 

     D. White squinted as a sudden understanding crossed his expression and his smirk dropped. “Carmen as in _carmine_ , right? Like another fucking shade of Red?” The detective exhaled, hands coming to rest on his temple. Closing his eyes, he pulled in a deep breath before breathing it out again. “I’m going to get some air.”

 

     Triumphant, Red jauntily waved after him. “Have fun!” Three minutes left.

 

     As the door closed, she caught sight of him talking to a pretty blonde woman in a suit. ‘Oh,’ Red thought to herself, ‘she’s cute.’

 

     “Good evening, Red,” the new detective said as she entered the room and sat down. “My name is Amanda Carter but you can just call me Amanda.” She was _very_ pretty, golden hair swirled into an elegant bun. Her suit was fitted just right and she even had a bit of chest peeking over the neckline of her blouse. A perfect beauty mark right under her right eye sealed the deal; she was gorgeous.

 

     “Ms. Carter,” Red pointedly said. “Or is there a Mr. Carter in the picture?”

 

     “As much as there is a Mx., Mx. And Ms. Red in yours,” she answered primly. She laid out a manila folder in front of her, opening it and spreading the pictures across the metal table. “These are shots taken of the responding officers on the scene.”

 

     The pictures were standard medical shots, the surviving officers had bullet wounds, bruises, and all sorts of burn marks. “Those look painful,” Red concluded. One minute.

 

     Ms. Carter snorted through her nose. “Engineering expertise, programming knowledge, and now hand-to-hand combat experience?”

 

     “A good criminal has many skills, Ms. Carter.”

 

     The detective’s eyebrow shot up, equal parts annoyed and amused. “And what other skills would you like to divulge?”

 

     As if on cue, the lights flickered off in the holding room. The guard reached for his gun as Red threw off the handcuffs she’d picked through the course of the interrogation. They clattered onto Ms. Carter’s wrists as Red dove under the table and kicked the legs out from under the guard. As she stomped on his head, knocking the guard out cold, she laughed. “I’m going to keep a few more skills a secret,” Red said, “gotta keep you on your toes.”

 

     As Ms. Carter jerked at the handcuffs, her hair tumbled out of its bun. Whatever she said next was drowned out by the sound of Red jumping through the one way mirror and firing on whoever was in the room. She double checked the recording device to see it went offline when her EMP activated and she grinned.

 

     “Farewell, detective!” she called behind her as she began sprinting away.

 


	4. Oddities

     Everyone in the crew had a thing. Either some pre-heist ritual or some clothing choice or some idle animation that made them all a collection of eccentricities in Los Santos.

 

     When Soup first joined the crew - off a high recommendation from one of the founding members: Bruise - he noticed that everyone here was goddamn weird.

 

     Egg was an enigma in and of themself. They wore their chicken mask around the penthouse when Soup moved in, rarely speaking around him and always with their back to a wall when they were in the room together. The most emotion Soup saw Egg express was unnerving laughter following a gunshot from the top of the penthouse. All he wanted was some peace and quiet and he found Egg belly down with a sniper rifle and shooting cups out of peoples’ hands.

 

     Bee was much less hostile but used her friendliness as a weapon. She was cheerful to the point of mania and was just this side of delirious charm that made people laugh out of nervousness. Soup was one of those people when she asked him to hold her grenade belt, as she strapped on a rocket launcher to her back and put away some spare C4 in the pocket under her purple tutu.

 

     Kuro was more calm but they poked and prodded Bee and Egg into action, the catalyst to a time bomb always primed to go off at the smallest of inconveniences. In contrast to their partners, they were downright creepy with how quietly they walked and Soup has been startled at their sudden appearance more often than not.

 

     Huny was chill and professional until he learned they ate any bodies that Red wanted disposed of. It was easier and Soup could appreciate the efficiency, but the fact that he learned it soured his taste of them...no pun intended.

 

     Daiki, much like Egg, never took off his helmet. Among all of them, Soup liked him the most because he didn’t tuck any unnecessary words into his speech and he was concise with his conversations. They had that in common and Soup appreciated it.

 

     Art was rarely around but the willingness to goad Daiki into a bad idea made Soup likely to shy away from their activities. It wasn’t that Soup was afraid, but the last time Art suggested they hang upside down out of a helicopter with a rocket launcher as Daiki flew them over Zancudo was...not something he’d like to remember.

 

     Spork was also rarely in the penthouse but whenever Red called a group meeting, she always smelled like smoke. Soup could have sworn half her hoodies were singed or stained with ash and he’s not sure if he should be impressed she’s made so many explosives or concerned most of her clothes were burned.

 

     Red was...alright. She seemed responsible; she paid taxes and checked up on the crew and kept everything functioning. He’d thought she would be the most normal until he was wandering around the penthouse late at night and he found her in the office with an IV drip of caffeine directly into her veins. That, coupled with the fact that she always, _always_ had something red colored on her, made her as much of a weirdo as everyone else.

 

     Soup’s not sure what to think of his new crew. But one thing he knows is that he’s safe and the loyalty in the crew is to kill for.

 

     That’s enough for him.


	5. (Bee) Can't Get Enough of Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee's pretty

[ Can’t Get Enough of Myself by Santigold feat. BC Unidos ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4zGYMGNFbM)

 

     Whoever gave Bee two machine guns and decided to back light her with an explosion was going to get a raise, if Red ever decided to hand out regular salaries. She’s beautiful as she spins in a circle, triggers held down and laughter lighting up her face. There’s a sound to her right and she turns on her heel, her left hand swinging back as she aims her guns into the alley.

 

     She practically skips after the lone gang member, ends up cornering him as she empties the clips. Bee laughs into her comm and all sorts of butterflies dance in Red’s stomach. In the space of a heartbeat, she realizes that maybe she’s in love with chaos incarnate.

 

     Somehow, through the hellfire and jovial slaughter, she found her heart in Bee and maybe, just maybe, she could call it love. As Red smiles to herself, she shouts for Bee to get in the back of her truck and man the mounted mini gun there.

 

     Vicious amusement shines in Bee’s eyes as she hops aboard, flips the safety off, and begins lining the boulevard with bullets. She first aims at the police cars and, as they begin to lose the police in the mountains, she takes potshots at pedestrian vehicles. None of the innocent ones though, no matter how rare they are in Los Santos. No, she aims at the aggressive drivers, at the people who begin pointing guns when they get into an accident instead of asking for licenses and registrations.

 

     And when they finally find a quiet moment at the top of a hill, Red kisses her. Red’s bleeding and delirious from the high of a job well done and maybe they won’t get a chance to do it later. So, with that thought firmly in the front of her mind, she kisses Bee.

 

     When they pull away, fireworks go off and there’s hoots and hollers from down the mountain side. She can hear Egg’s distinct laughter and as more sparks pop off, she leans her head onto Bee’s shoulder and sighs.


	6. (Kuro) Narcissist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuro's pretty

[ Narcissist by No Rome feat. The 1975 ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7-A43AcEY8)

 

     It was a routine pick up and Kuro watched Red practically vibrate with excitement. “New Zentorno,” she explained, fingers drumming the steering wheel impatiently. “I can’t wait for a test drive after I drop you off at home."

 

     Kuro shrugged, leaning back in their chair and checking out the interior of the car with disinterest. “I’m good with staying,” they said. Once they found the seat warmer, they flipped the switch and gratefully burrowed deeper in their hoodie.

 

     “Are you sure?” Red asked, more as a formality than anything. Once Kuro decided, they were in it for the long haul. “I’m kinda a crazy driver.”

 

     “Yeah, man.”

 

     They peeled out of the airport hangar, the screech of the tires barely louder than Red’s elated screams. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Kuro slouch down into the seat, one hand firmly curled around the ‘oh shit’ handle and the other hand around the seat belt. Belatedly, Kuro realized they didn’t have any spare bags in case they toss their salad, but that was entirely Red’s fault.

 

     Moreso when she jumped the airport fence off some metal stairs. The impact jostled Kuro’s mask off and they didn’t release their white-knuckled grip to fix it. Maybe this was, in fact, a bad idea.

 

     Almost immediately, they heard the initial whoop of a siren and the red-blue lights flashed in the rear view mirror. “Did you buckle your seat belt?” Red joked.

 

     Kuro snorted in amusement before carefully letting go of the door handle and unholstering their gun. “I get enough of this from tagging along with Bee and Egg,” they grumbled fondly. They held up the gun questioningly.

 

     Red shook her head, wild grin pulling at her lips. “Nah, trial by fire.”

 

     As they hit the boulevard, the car jerked left and Kuro screamed as they were now going the wrong direction in a one way street. The police followed close behind, using them as a barrier in case they got hit. Just as Kuro was about to turn around and fire out the back window, Red swerved onto the sidewalk and the truck they were barreling towards hit the police with a satisfying crunch.

 

     Red howled with laughter and as they turned to see Kuro’s expression, they passed under a streetlight and the adrenaline got to her head. Kuro’s mask had already slipped off, their hair a fluffy mess. They were wide-eyed and slightly in awe at the events that just unfolded.

 

     Red’s heart beat harder as she gunned it up the hill toward the Vinewood sign. They wove around cars, occasionally slowing down and driving like normal people so the police’s eyes skated over them. Eventually, they crested the hill and the sirens in the distance quieted. When Red killed the engine, Kuro unclicked their seat belt, threw open the door, and let themself collapse onto the floor. “Oh, god,” they said.

 

     “But did you die?” Red laughed, sitting down next to Kuro. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she leaned her back on the bumper. When Kuro sat up, she leaned on them and asked, “hey, not to be gay, can I kiss you?”

 

     Kuro paused, unsure of how to process that question. “That’s very much gay,” they said. “But yeah.”

 

     As soon as Kuro said so, Red leaned in, pressing her lips to theirs. One hand cupped their cheek but her other hand pulled Kuro closer and she could almost feel Kuro’s heart beating as fast as hers.

 


	7. (Egg) Bleed Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Egg's pretty

[ Bleed Magic by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D4Bf8Qhe59U)

 

     “This is dumb,” Egg complained for the umpteenth time. “I like my old clothes.”

 

     They turned in a circle, the three-part mirror reflecting every angle of the suit. Egg had to admit though, it was very soft and well-tailored. Rich black fabric made with blended wools from different animals in countries Egg couldn’t remember, thin white silk pinstripes that very slightly glowed in sunlight. Their vest was made of similar material on the front but the back was silk maybe? Honestly, Egg zoned out after the fifth suit Red made them try on. The one concession Red granted was the sturdy leather boots Egg favored, the ones with a knife holster in the heel.

 

     “You have exactly three sets of clothes and two of them are stained with blood,” Red pointed out. She was lounging on a chaise longue, one hand propped under her chin as she gave Egg an assessing look. “This suit makes your butt look nice too.”

 

     Egg snorted before unbuttoning the jacket and tossing it over their shoulder. With a dramatic swirl, they swung around and made eyes at Red. “Yeah? Is there something else you’d like to say or would you rather keep that in the bedroom?”

 

     This time it was Red’s turn to laugh as she waved a hand in front of her face. “We’re in public; have some decorum,” she said. Sitting up, she motioned for Egg to come closer. “You probably didn’t notice but there’s a built-in knife holster on the inside portion of the jacket.” She patted the area under the left breast, the faint stitches perfectly concealed in the pinstripe and further distracted by the gold buttons.

 

     Egg unfolded the jacket and traced their fingers along the compartments. “This compartment is bigger,” they said, pinching the fabric along the seams of the waist. “Gun?”

 

     Red nodded. “Easy to hide, easy to grab,” she said. “Is it comfortable? Can you move easily?”

 

     Sitting down, then standing up again, Egg tested the limits of the suit. “Comfortable enough, but why do I need a suit?”

 

     “If there’s a fancy party, I’d like my dates to not look like trash hobos.”

 

     “Rude.”

 

     Red laughed, hand clapped over her mouth to not disturb the peaceful ambiance of the tailor’s shop. “Are we buying it?”

 

     Humming in thought, Egg settled on a shrug and a “sure.”

 

     They walked out of the tailor’s shop as the sun set on the boulevard. It was gorgeous, the yellows and pinks bouncing around the glass faces of buildings, the hints of blue and indigo beginning to rise over the mountains. Red turned to flirt with Egg when she saw them stop in their tracks. “Eggy baby?” she asked.

 

     “This suit is $2000,” Egg said, shock apparent in their voice. They turned the price tag over, hoping to see some red lines saying it was on sale for less or something. “I could have bought so many bakeries worth of bread for my gorls with this money.”

 

     “Egg,” Red said, very slowly and overtly taking Egg’s hand in theirs to not freak them out about the sudden physical contact, “you literally burn through thousands of dollars on weapons; I think I’m allowed to use my cut of the recent heist to buy you nice clothes.”

 

     There was a quick smirk on Red’s face as she shifted her weight and leaned in, towering slightly above Egg due to their heights and her damn heels. “And I’m also allowed to rip those clothes off you and have them resewn tomorrow morning.”

 

     She backed off immediately, hands coming up in a placating gesture. “That is, only if you want me to though,” she said, “no pressure.”

 

     That elicited a sharp bark of laughter from Egg who shook their head. “I’m cool with that, but also Bee will want to join.”

 

     “As per usual.”

 

     “Kuro also mentioned they wanted to watch.”

 

     “Does everyone always know my plans to rail you?”

 

     Egg’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “You’re not subtle.”

 

     Red laughed, bumping hips with Egg as she began walking home. “Let’s hurry up and get home to give them a show then.”


	8. (Kuro) N Y L A

[ N Y L A by Blackbear ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ukHzdhC_fGs)

 

     Red was staring at the phone. She knew she shouldn't be just as much as she knew she couldn't stop. There were a million things she wanted to say but it didn't make a difference because the person she wanted to say them to wasn't here.

 

     She didn’t realize she was dozing until someone draped a blanket on her. It was soft and cotton and definitely not hers. “Thanks Egg,” she said, offering a forced smile to her wusband.

 

     Egg nodded once before disappearing into the kitchen. Red wasn’t the only one feeling like something was missing apparently. And while it was easy to care for her, they were less inclined for words. “I’m sad, Egg.”

 

     “I know, Jenn.”

 

     “I miss Kuro.”

 

     Egg stopped puttering around the kitchen, three mugs lining the counter in front of them. The one on the left was mostly blue except for the little painting of grass along the bottom and a single chicken sitting. The middle one was dark purple with a metallic gold handle. The one on the right was white with red pixelated hearts along the rim. Behind Egg, the last mug in the cabinet was black with a grey handle and painted bones.

 

     A heartbeat passed before they kept going about the business of making drinks for them and their sad wives. “I know, Jenn.”

 

     For a few more minutes, the only sounds in the room were Egg’s soft footsteps and the sound of water boiling. There was a single sniffle behind Red and she turned to see Bee dragging herself into the living room. She took a spot next to Red and pulled her legs to her chest.

 

     Red’s heart ached and she covered them both with the blanket. Before long, the drinks were done and Egg handed them out to their respective recipients. Pulling Egg down, she moved the blanket to cover all three of them as they sat in silence.

 

     Kuro had been on a job in Taiwan for the last month and a half. They stopped responding to messages in that half month and it drove Red, Bee, and Egg crazy. It wasn’t that they thought Kuro couldn’t handle themself, more that not having 24 hour communication made them anxious and upset.

 

     Bee had already asked Daiki if he could fly them to Taiwan to look for Kuro but Egg argued that they’d blow Kuro’s cover. In the same breath, they weren’t sure Kuro was even alive and if they had to mourn, they were for sure going to slaughter whoever did it.

 

     It all came back to a stalemate, so here they were, staring blankly at the floor or the phone or the mug in their hands.

 

     Maybe the dread and absolute silence is what lulled them into lethargy, because the next thing they knew, the front door’s handle jiggled. Their eyes snapped up, Egg reaching under the couch to get the gun they taped there for emergencies. Bee silently got up and grabbed a gun from behind the TV and Red checked her phone for the security camera feed.

 

     She saw a black hoodie and a suitcase.

 

     That’s all she needed to scream and launch herself from the sofa. “Wait!” Egg shouted, hands outstretched to grab their dumbass wife who was in the process of throwing herself into danger.

 

     The front door opened and Kuro barely had time to register Red before she tackled them into a hug. As soon as Kuro’s arms came up to hug back, Red burst into tears and shakily said, “Kurooooo.”

 

     Egg was the next one around the corner, promptly tucking the gun in their waistband before coming up to Kuro. They put their head on Kuro’s shoulder, a world of emotion in the simple gesture.

 

     Bee dropped her gun on the kitchen counter before swinging around and wrapping everyone in a hug too. They stayed like that for a few minutes, crying or just taking in each others’ presence before Kuro made a sound of discomfort.

 

     “Hey, uh,” they said, hands coming up to gently pry everyone off, “I love you but I’m bleeding.”

 

     Everyone froze as Kuro gently unzipped their jacket and pulled up their shirt a little. From what they saw, their chest was all wrapped with bandages.

 

     The calm that had settled in the room broke in an instant as Bee and Egg were taking Kuro by the hand to lead them to the couch and Red whipped out her phone to call Huny.

 

     Maybe Kuro was hurt, but they were now home and that’s all that mattered.


	9. (Bee) Candystore

[ Candy Store from Heathers: The Musical ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQOoTX1Nxx8)

 

     Ammu-Nation has long learned to not ask questions. By nature of its location, as many law-abiding citizens as criminals have made purchases and they are not one to turn away business. Particularly, business that is well-protected by its patrons.

 

      “Welcome to Ammu-Nation,” a tired voice calls as Red and Bee walk in. In criminal circles, women were few and far between, so the fact that not one, but two lovely ladies walked in got the clerk mildly interested, especially one holding a full suitcase. “How can I help you?”

 

     “Just looking for now,” Red said, smiling beatifically. She squinted at the clerk before recognizing him. “Oh! Hi Matt!”

 

     Matt squinted too before putting on his glasses and breaking into a grin. “Hi Red!” he said. “Sorry, didn’t recognize your voice right away.”

 

     Red nodded sympathetically. “Kinda rough around the edges today, not going to lie,” she said, “how’s the wife?”

 

     Bee smirked when she heard Red downplaying their earlier activities as a reason for her voice being fucked. Tuning the rest of the conversation out, she perused the new knives on display, eyes lingering on the shiniest, the sharpest, the best.

 

     And having 70% of Los Santos under her thumb might have made Bee a little spoiled. “I want this,” she said, tapping the glass.

 

     Red turned to look at what her girlfriend was referring to. “Which one?”

 

     “All of them.”

 

     Red blinked once before turning to Matt. “Can we…” she hesitated “...can we get the whole knife display?”

 

     Matt hummed in thought. “I can’t really stop you, can I?” he smiled. “Going to run you a pretty penny, though.”

 

     Sighing theatrically, Red placed the suitcase on the counter. “I’ve always got the prettiest pennies saved for you, Matt.” Her fingers carded through the stacks, meticulously counting them out in front of him. “This should cover it?” she asked, placing a stack of five hundred $20 bills in front of him. “$10,000?”

 

     He snorted, arms crossed. “This could buy out more than the knife section,” he said. “Might as well add on a few guns for your other buddies.”

 

     Winking, Red said to Matt, “thank you!” She pointed to Bee and asked, “can you grab her knives while I keep looking?”

 

     This time it was Red’s turn to tune out the conversation as she shopped. There was an antique-looking rifle Egg might like, so she noted it down mentally. There was a grenade launcher that looked familiar but Red wasn’t too sure so she also put it on the list of gifts for Kuro. “What are these?” Red asked, pointing to a closed box.

 

     “Smoke bomb refills for that launcher,” Matt nodded at the one Red stared at earlier. “Lots of colors.”

 

     “Cool, can I have them, the grenade launcher, and this rifle?”

 

     Matt laughed and said, “for another stack?”

 

     Another stack of cash was left on the table as Bee and Red left with two boxes of goodies. “Have a good day!” Red called as they exited the store. They all but skipped home, ready to marvel at their new toys.


	10. (Bruise) Harassing Racists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW derogatory slurs from someone who is going to get killed in this fic bc they're using the aforementioned slurs

     "You have to get this progress report signed by your mom or dad," the teacher said, handing a pink slip to Bruise. "They have to know that you're failing this class."

 

     "I'm starting to think it's just because you hate me," Bruise mumbled under her breath.

 

     "Excuse me?"

 

     Bruise put on a forced smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Okay, ma'am."

 

\---

 

     One week later, Ms. Hanson strode down the hallway. The principal said a disgruntled parent wanted to talk to her about her daughter's progress report. Armed with some false reports and behavior incidents that she was going to use, she didn't expect to see as young a woman sitting primly in front of the principal's desk. "Ms. Hanson," the woman said, standing up and reaching out for a handshake. "It's good to finally meet you."

 

     Ms. Hanson threw a sideways glance at the principal. Surely this young woman couldn't be Bruise's mom? Moreover, this woman was a damn _chink_. "Yes, are you Bruise's mom?"

 

     "Her guardian," the woman corrected. "You can call me Scarlet."

 

     Glancing down, Ms. Hanson sensed the irony in the woman's dark red pantsuit. "You wanted to talk with me?"

 

 _Scarlet_ nodded before turning slightly to the principal. "Could I get some privacy with Ms. Hanson?"

 

     The principal stood up sharply, the motion jerky. Ms. Hanson squinted and saw he was pale and almost sweating. "Yes, ma'am."

 

     When Ms. Hanson’s gaze slid back to _Scarlet_ , she almost missed the pointed look that melted into a beatific smile. “So, last week, my daughter brought home a progress report saying she was having behavior issues in your class?”

 

     Straight to the point, Ms. Hanson had to appreciate the efficiency. “Yes, she’s been acting up in class and disrupting the other students.”

 

 _Scarlet_ hummed in thought, walking away from her chair and around the desk before sitting in the principal’s chair. She took a second to get comfortable before crossing her legs and lacing her fingers across her lap. “Surely, you can’t mean the same daughter that has a glowing track record from other teachers saying that she followed rules and did her work on time,” she said.

 

     Ms. Hanson’s mouth dropped open to reply when _Scarlet_ put up a hand to silence her. “Moreover, the same daughter that helps other students because she finishes her work so fast. The same daughter who is, if not acing, then getting a B+ in her other classes.”

 

     “ _Miss Scarlet_ ,” Ms. Hanson interjected. “My class operates differently and in this particular subject, she is failing to do an adequate job.”

 

     “Do you have instances of when she failed to do an adequate job?”

 

     Finally, something she could rebut. She reached into her briefcase and pulled out an attendance sheet. “She has been late to class over five times,” Ms. Hanson said, putting the sheet down in front of the other woman.

 

     “For meetings with the school therapist, Mrs. Ramirez,” _Scarlet_ said. “Meetings you agreed to by signing this form.” _Scarlet_ pulled out her own briefcase, gently placing it on the table to unclasp and pull out the correct form. “Signed and dated from August, a week before school started.”

 

     Ms. Hanson looked at the form and there it was, her signature on a paper she doesn’t remember signing. “Ah,” she said. Taking a second to collect herself, she said, “well, I --”

 

     “She also mentioned she’s been the target of a disproportionate amount of disciplinary actions from you.” _Scarlet’s_ eyes turned sharp, now on the offensive. “Said that you’ve used more than enough slurs when talking about her or to her.”

 

     “I did no such thing,” Ms. Hanson sniffed.

 

     “Oh?” _Scarlet_ said, reaching into her briefcase to pull out her phone. “Care to explain these audio clips?” She swiped the screen and pulled up a whole list of files with dates attached. Tapping the screen, she played a clip dated from earlier in the week.

 

     “Shut up, you eskimo,” a voice, _her_ voice said.

 

     “Hey,” Bruise’s voice said. “Don’t call me that!”

 

     “Don’t raise your voice at me!” Ms. Hanson’s voice shouted. “Do you want a detention?”

 

     The clip ends there, but Ms. Hanson’s face paled. That’s enough evidence to get her fired. “How did you get that?”

 

 _Scarlet_ stood from the desk and made slow strides toward Ms. Hanson. Her expression screamed murder as she stalked forward like a predator about to go for the kill. “Do _not_ call my daughter, or anyone else, by any of these slurs and if I find out that you continue to target students of color?

 

     “I will end you,” she said solemnly. “I will ruin your teaching career and any other career you try to pick up after this one is broken. Not only that, I will haunt your nightmares if you try and raise a hand to my daughter.”

 

     “You can’t threaten me,” Ms. Hanson said, but her voice shook. “I’ll sue.”

 

     “By all means,” _Scarlet_ said, taking one step further into Ms. Hanson’s space until they were almost chest to chest. “I will call my own lawyer to prepare for any civil case you’d like to bring to me.”

 

     “Fucking bitch,” she spat out, “I don’t have to take this from a gook like you.”

 

     For the briefest of seconds, rage flashed in _Scarlet’s_ eyes before settling back down. “I see,” she said. Pausing to reassess the situation, she added, “you’ll hear from me later tonight; good day, Ms. Hanson.”

 

     And like that, _Scarlet_ packed her briefcase and swept out of the room in a huff. The principal scurried back in, looking harried. “What did she say?”

 

     “She’s just pissy because I hurt her poor baby.”

 

     The principal’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

 

     Ms. Hanson didn’t take the time to dissect that reaction. She was too annoyed and needed a break. “Goodbye, sir.”

 

\---

 

     Later that night, Ms. Hanson was pulling out her keys to get into her apartment. Her arms were full of groceries and her head was replaying the conversation from earlier that day. The way _Scarlet_ talked about hearing from her later that night had Ms. Hanson on edge. But as the night was coming to a close, she thought it was more of an empty threat.

 

     Someone came up behind her and she felt cold metal on the back of her neck. “Get in,” an unfamiliar voice said.

 

     Ms. Hanson automatically tensed up but she couldn’t do anything about it. Even if she tried screaming, she doubted her neighbors cared. Something must have soured their relationship and she refused to think it was because of her.

 

     She fumbled the keys before inserting them and twisting. Light pooled in the room and she furrowed her brow in confusion. She never left lights on.

 

     “Welcome home,” a more familiar voice said. _Scarlet_ was sitting in one of her arm chairs in exactly the same position as earlier that day.

 

     “How did you get into my apartment?” Ms. Hanson demanded.

 

     Something moved from the shadows of the kitchen and she heard her fridge door close. A young woman, no older than her students, came around the corner with a spoon and her ice cream. “Oh are we starting?”

 

     Another laugh, this time from behind _Scarlet._ Ms. Hanson doesn’t know how she missed the person standing behind _Scarlet._

 

     “Get out,” she said, voice wavering. “I’ll call the police.”

 

     “You won’t,” the person behind Ms. Hanson said. They pushed her further into the room and closed the door behind them.

 

     It seemed like they were the only person armed but she didn’t trust herself to get the pepper spray out of her bag in time. “What do you want.”

 

     “Why don’t you have a seat and we can talk,” _Scarlet_ said. She nodded at the person behind Ms. Hanson and the gun dug into her neck to urge her forward. Raising an expectant eyebrow, Ms. Hanson was compelled to follow the commands. Even as Ms. Hanson sat down, the barrel of the gun never left.

 

     “I gave you the chance to do better, but you wasted it.” _Scarlet’s_ tone was condescending and, Ms. Hanson realized dully, the same kind of tone of a disappointed instructor would take on with an unruly student. “How do you think you wound up here?”

 

     “I…” Ms Hanson began. Her nerves were getting the better of her and even for a seasoned Los Santos native, being held at gunpoint had a special way of making her fear for her life. “I insulted you.”

 

 _Scarlet_ tsked, leaning forward in the chair and resting her forearms on her knees. “Try again.”

 

     The woman with the ice cream jumped to sit on the kitchen counter, crossing her knees and cradling the ice cream. She pushed a hand up through her hair to right the crown that had tilted on her head.

 

     The person behind _Scarlet_ never removed their oriental demon mask, instead they stayed looming behind her. Something was familiar about that mask but Ms. Hanson couldn’t place her finger on it. Maybe she saw it at a costume shop near the beach.

 

     “Well?”

 

     “I insulted Mary,” Ms. Hanson said.

 

     “Wrong,” _Scarlet_ said. “Eggy, baby, come around to this side please. I don’t want her blood to get on my outfit.”

 

     The person behind her, Eggy?, snorted and walked around to stand in front of her. The gun was now to her forehead. She was shaking and the metal bumped against her skull.

 

     “I’m a forgiving person,” _Scarlet_ said, “you have one more try.”

 

     Confusion colored Ms. Hanson’s cheeks and she furrowed her eyebrows. “I...I don’t know.”

 

     She waited for the gunshot. Reflexively, she closed her eyes and offered a prayer to God. When the shot didn’t come, she peeked her eyes open to look at Eggy. They were wearing a chicken mask and Ms. Hanson saw a few droplets of red paint. Blood, she realized with a jolt.

 

     Wait, the tiara with purple gems, the demon mask, and now the chicken mask? Horror dawned on her face and finally, finally, _Scarlet_ smiled.

 

     “Well, actually, you get partial credit for your last answer,” _~~Scarlet~~ Red_ said. “You insulted our Mary but you also humiliated and degraded her. You humiliated and degraded every student of color of yours. For that,” her eyes flicked to Egg’s, “you will suffer the consequences.”

 

     The motion was too fast. Egg’s grip on the gun flipped and they rammed the butt of it against her temple before she could react. She was knocked out cold and hit the floor with a solid thud. Everyone in the room paused to make sure she truly was unconscious.

 

     “That went well,” Egg commented, putting the gun away and getting out some zip ties. “Kinda hungry,” they said.

 

     “There’s a foot long sub in her fridge,” Bee said, licking the spoon and throwing it over her shoulder into the sink. “I’ll split it in half with you.”

 

     Egg finished securing Ms. Hanson before dragging her over onto a rug to roll her up. “Hell fucking yes,” they said. “Actually wait, Kuro, do you want some too?”

 

     “Nah, I’m good,” they said, twisting their mask to the side. “I want some cookies though.”

 

     “This wasn’t part of the script,” Red said, getting up from the chair and stretching. She went to help Egg roll the teacher up before turning to her partners.

 

     Bee puttered around the kitchen to look for a knife to cut the sub. [“What, is this the murder weapon?,” she laughed, “get off my dick!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKuod1AYuRo)

 

     Everyone else laughed along and she finally found the knife to cut the sandwich in half. “Here,” she said. She lobbed a bag of cookies over at Kuro, who caught it with one hand. “Here, Egg.” Coming out of the kitchen, she handed Egg a plated sandwich. As she finished her own half, she turned to put the plate in the sink when she stopped in her tracks.

 

     “Bee?”

 

     She turned back around with a wild grin on her face. Rearing her arm back, she whipped the plate as hard as she could at a wall and it shattered in ceramic shards. There was a dent in the wall and she was running into the kitchen to grab more dishes before the last few pieces stopped skittering across the living room.

 

     Red put a hand up to stop her before letting it drop back to her side; no point in spoiling their fun. Once Egg and Kuro were done with their foods, they also began trashing the apartment. Egg disappeared into her bedroom and came out with their pockets presumably filled with any valuable thing they could find. Kuro went to the bathroom and began upending drawers. Bee had changed over from breaking dishes to throwing knives at walls.

 

     After thirty minutes of Chaos^3 living up to their name, they all settled down and gravitated back to Red. “Done?” she asked, but the smile on her face betrayed her. Her partners nodded, satisfaction and exertion painting their faces pink. “Okay then let’s go.”

 

\---

 

     The penthouse was quiet when Dreadee snuck back in at three in the morning. Egg schismed off to dump Ms. Hanson in the playroom; they locked the door after them, just in case. They all got to the master bedroom and immediately undressed, changing into pajamas or going to take a shower, when there was a knock at the door.

 

     Red motioned for everyone to hide in the bathroom while she opened the door partially to hide her nudity. “Bruisey? Why are you awake?”

 

     “Did you kidnap Ms. Hanson?” Bruise said. She crossed her arms and frowned.

 

     That almost brought a smile to Red’s face; Bruise was using the same tactics Egg used to express their displeasure in a more obvious way to make people uncomfortable. “Uh.”

 

     “So I don’t have school tomorrow?”

 

     “Wha--no!”

 

     “What do you _mean_ ‘no’?” Bruise asked. “I don’t have a homeroom teacher anymore!”

 

     “Let her stay home from school!” Bee shouted from the bathroom, followed by quiet giggling.

 

      Sighing, Red let her head loll until she could rest her temple on the doorway. “Okay, fine. But don’t tell Soup.”

 

     “Right, okay; you’re playing favorites” Soup said. Red looked over Bruise’s shoulder but she couldn’t find him. “I’m in my room, by the way.”

 

Red blinked once before realizing Bruise had her comm on speakerphone.

 

_Their ingenuity and teamwork made her heart swell. These kids would take NEON when they got old enough..._

 

     Cracking her neck to the side to activate her subdermal EMP, she heard a sharp yelp as the comms cut out and Bruise yanked it from her ear.

 

_...but not just yet._

 

     “Okay so I’ll call you both out of school tomorrow, but you still have to sleep,” Red said. “Good night you two.”

 

     She patted Bruise on the head before waving her off and closing the door.


	11. (Egg) Dangerous

[ Dangerous by Royal Deluxe ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0E4KmSgUM4)

 

     Egg’s free hand drummed the beat to their song, their fingertips tapping lightly on the butt of their rifle. Bee dropped off a croissant earlier and it still sat in the napkin to their right. The sun was just about to set and Egg has been on this rooftop for the last five hours because they were waiting for the target to come out onto the balcony for his evening smoke.

 

     Egg’s nose crinkled at the thought, remembering the last time Kuro had a roommate that smoked. Kuro tolerated it until Egg offered to kill them, and then Kuro decided to move out.

 

_“It wouldn’t have been an issue,” Egg said._

 

_“If I wanted to kill her, I would,” Kuro replied, “but nah; not worth the trouble.”_

 

     Smiling at the memory, they checked their phone and it read a solid 5:25PM. Just a few more minutes.

 

     They shifted the gun in their hands and rolled their weight from their side to their center. Peering down the scope, they made the micro adjustments necessary, their former restlessness disappearing as they had a new, stimulating activity to focus on.

 

     A breath in through the nose and out through the mouth, they’ve perfected the art of sniping. Back in the early days of the crew, when Red always micro managed everything, she’d hover at their side and try to see what they were seeing. They could feel her anxiety and had to actively tune it out just to not let her energy affect them.

 

     The target opened the sliding door, hands automatically reaching into his pocket to retrieve a cigarette.

 

     ‘Don’t miss,’ Red said, a phantom worry in their head.

 

     Egg scoffed under their breath, faking annoyance. “I never miss,” they whispered back.

 

     The shot was muted but the power of the rifle still sent a shock to Egg’s shoulder. The stock was good, better quality than their first rifle, so they didn’t bruise.

 

     Even if they could, they doubt the callouses would go away in this lifetime.

 

     The target’s cigarette dropped straight down as they were blown backwards. The glass door did not shatter, meaning Egg was the perfect distance away that the force of the bullet could not leave an exit wound.

 

     They were good and they mentally congratulated themself on another job well done.

 

     Crawling over to the ladder, they slid down to their car in the alley below with their rifle slung over one shoulder and Bee’s croissant in the other hand.


	12. (Red) Snow Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It snowed in LA recently and I realize I've never driven in snow before.

     The kids tromped out of the house and Red followed along sleepily. Soup’s car’s battery died from the sudden onset of cold weather this month and Red took it to her mechanic, but in the meantime, she would have to drive them to school.

 

     7:30AM was too early for anyone to function unless she stayed up the night prior. She didn’t tell them that because she’d set a bad example, but it’s not a well kept secret among the crew. “It’s cold,” Red says before she stops in her tracks.

 

     She never gets cold.

 

     Rubbing her eyes to clear her vision, she sees a distinct layer of white snow over the front steps and on the car. She’s in disbelief because it _never_ snowed in Southern California.

 

     “Red?” Bruise asks, pulling at the car door handle. “Can you unlock the car so we don’t freeze to death outside?”

 

     Red clicks the keys and Bruise and Soup immediately pile in. She’s still in shock as she carefully walks to the car, making sure to not slip on the ice. “What the fuck,” she says under her breath, “what the fuuuuck.”

 

     Sliding into the driver’s seat, the car rumbles to life and she pulls out of the driveway at a sedate 20mph. She’s driving with both hands on the wheel and her shoulders are stiff with worry. She goes under the speed limits for once and Bruise and Soup side eye each other.

 

     “You good?” Soup asks from the back seat. “I can drive,” he immediately offers.

 

     “I can do this,” Red says tersely.

 

     The rest of the drive to Los Santos High is spent in silence. When she idles to let the kids out, they say thanks and remind her to pick them up at 3PM.

 

\---

 

     “Egg,” Red says as she comes back home. She’s still stiff and anxious as she closes and locks the front door and turns to drop her keys in a bowl in the hallway. “You know how to drive in snow, right?”

 

     Egg hands Red her mug full of coffee. “Uh, yeah,” they say, sipping from their hot chocolate, “I’m from the North East.”

 

     “Can you…” Red trails off, “...can you pick up the kids today?”

 

     Egg stops puttering around the kitchen to turn and fully stare at their wife. “Are you saying you’ve never driven in snow?”

 

     Red nods and Egg guffaws, clutching their chest leaning over the counter dramatically. “Oh, god,” they say, jokingly wiping a tear from their eyes. “You’re the _getaway driver_ and you’ve never driven in snow?”

 

     Red shushes them, embarrassment coloring her cheeks pink. “Stop it,” she complains, “I never had to learn!” And she was right. SF was cold but it never snowed. Relocating south only meant less rain and even less chance for snow this close to the desert. “Can you do it or do I have to ask Kuro?”

 

     “Ask Kuro what?” Kuro asks, coming into the kitchen. Their hair is a fluffy mess, indicating that they just woke up. Red thinks they look cute in her mechanic T-shirt.

 

     “Jenn can’t drive in snow,” Egg laughs.

 

     There’s a heartbeat of a pause before Kuro also howls in laughter. They both double over, clutching their stomachs to try and contain the hilarity, and Red just crosses her arms defensively. “It wasn’t important for me!”

 

     The laughter intensifies and they are both now sitting on the ground. Bee walks into the kitchen to see what the commotion is about. Her purple toothbrush is in her hand and there’s foam around her mouth. “Wha’s happenin’,” she asks.

 

     “They’re making fun of me for not wanting to drive in snow,” Red says, a pout on her lips.

 

     Bee rushes over to the kitchen sink, hopping over Egg, to spit out her toothpaste. “Really?” she asks incredulously, voice pitching up to try and contain the disbelief.

 

     Red gives her a withering look and Bee breaks. She laughs all the way to the master bathroom to rinse her mouth and put her toothbrush away before coming back. “How?” she asks.

 

     “I’m a Cali gal born and raised,” Red says.

 

     “There’s snow up north-north.”

 

     “...I’m a city Cali gal born and raised,” Red amends. Turning to Egg she angles her hands at them. “Can you do it?”

 

     Egg gets up from the floor, a wide smile on their face. “Yeah, I’ll pick them up.”

 

     “Thank you,” Red says. She points at her keys in the bowl near the door and then takes her coffee to the sofa to turn on the TV and watch the news. Bee follows shortly after and drapes her legs in Red’s lap. Egg follows suit with their hot chocolate and then Kuro sits in their lap. It feels like a typical Dreadee morning.


	13. (Red) This is Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW Suicide, TW Schizophrenia

[ This is Home by Cavetown ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YgmMJJ34k4)

 

     And she threw around “I Love You”s like a prayer that they would come home alive at the end of the day. She has seen too many friends die over the years and she couldn’t lose another piece of her heart in the people she loves. The house was quiet in the early mornings and she whispered it with reverence, with faith, with all the things she should have said when they were here. And when she sat in the house that was no longer her Home, she cried.

 

     She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bring herself to make the bed if she knew her favorite people weren’t right around the corner and ready to throw themselves onto it explicitly to mess it up. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the sweater that fell off a hook in the closet, not her sweater and not her job.

 

     She didn’t sign up for this. Loss was a four count waltz she knew all the steps to until the other three counts disappeared. Dancing alone was never something she thought she needed but now she couldn’t live without it.

 

     And she knows it’s unreasonable and she knows it’s not what they wanted, but she quiets those thoughts as she pours gasoline over the couch. She makes her way through the bedrooms, to each bed where she whispers “I Love You” to no one, to each mismatched rug or stray pillow on the floor, until she comes to her own bedroom.

  

     They convinced her to get a bigger bed, without using words but actions, and she sits in the middle of it as she flicks the open flame lighter in her hands.

 

     It catches gold in the fading sunset, cotton candy skies so much like the month before when it was just them, sitting on the top of a mountain and talking about a life outside the crime. Talking about their futures, for once, one without the fear of dying or without the ever-present dread of losing each other.

 

     She laughs and it sounds shaky and strange in the empty room. She whispers “I Love You” one last time before dropping the lighter.

 

\---

 

     She doesn’t believe in God or heaven. She believed in her love but now it wasn’t necessary. They were gone and so was she, so why was she awake?

 

     When she sits up, she’s woozy and all too confused. The flames raced across the penthouse and she felt the release of death.

 

     “What the fuck?”

 

     That’s not a sound she’s heard in a long time.

 

     “It’s Jenn!”

 

     That’s not a name she’s heard in a long time.

 

     “Oh my god.”

 

     That’s something she’s starting to believe in now.

 

     The light is too bright for her eyelids to filter and the migraine starts, as it always does, with a groan and a hand to the forehead. Testing out her vocal chords, she finds her throat thick with sleep. “Huh?” she manages to get out. When was the last time she was this vulnerable?

 

     “Please wake up.”

 

     She turns on her side, trying to move away from the light, away from the voices that have kept her company since the owners have gone. She can’t bear it anymore. No more, please if there’s a God, please don’t make her bear it any longer.

 

     “Jenn.”

 

     The hand on her shoulder is a gentle weight and the fact she can feel it speaks volumes.

 

     “Bee?” It’s choked out and the weariness is replaced with disbelief or tears or some combination of the two.

 

     No matter how much it hurts, she opens her eyes and prepares to see no one there.

 

     Instead, she sees Bee. But that’s not right.

 

     She rubs her eyes with her hands and it comes away wet with tears. “Bee?”

 

     A soft smile curves on Bee’s lips as she looks behind her. “It’s her,” she says.

 

     There are hurried footsteps, a run up some stairs and then swerving around the corner. This isn’t right.

 

     Egg doesn’t wear overalls.

 

     “Jenn,” they breathe out, a prayer in their voice.

 

     A few more footsteps before another familiar face pops out from over Egg’s shoulder. “Oh, god,” Kuro says.

 

     “I sure hope it is,” she says, trying for teasing but falling just short of desperate.

 

     There’s a pause of disbelief or of fear; she’s not sure which is more applicable to each person in the room.

 

     Instead, she breaks the silence herself.

 

     “I Love You.”

 

     But she means:

 

      _“I’m Home.”_


	14. (Red) Statues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 1/? of an origin story series for Red

[ Statues by The Eden Project feat. Leah Kelly ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0i4QRGDTbc)

 

     “You always said that in the end, no matter what happened, you’d find your way back home,” he says, arms crossed and hip cocked in a way that she knew hid his genuine anger. “Was it worth it?”

 

     She doesn’t look up, refuses to meet his eyes. The chair she’s bound to barely creaks as she tries leaning away from him, but it’s useless. A hand swims in her vision and jerks her chin up to look at them. The gloves the person is wearing are uncomfortably familiar.

 

     She gave him those gloves three years ago.

 

     “Answer me, Jennifer,” he says. He’s wearing sunglasses indoors, something she used to tease him about all the time. It made it hard to read his expression and the distance between them was too much. There’s no note of faux-annoyance there was last time, only anger and despair making this shipping-container-turned-holding-cell stifling.

 

     “Jennifer,” the other person says. He’s crouching next to her, almost at eye level. “Come on,” he says, “this is the first time we’ve seen each other in years, please answer the question.”

 

     Ah, good cop-bad cop. Back in the day, back in Santa Francesca, she was the good cop, not Myles. “I...I don’t know,” she says.

 

     Myles frowns and shakes his head. “Then why?” he asks, inclining his head towards his partner, “then why did you leave Chris and I?”

 

     Scoffing, Chris answers for her, “she was afraid.” He shifts his weight and stalks closer to them. _“She ran like a coward.”_

 

     It hurts, of course it hurts to see two ghosts from your past, but she didn’t expect them to find her so soon. She wasn’t strong enough, smart enough, good enough to take back SF and avenge them yet.

 

     Looks like they didn’t need avenging anymore though. “I thought you died,” she says, voice shaking. The tears are flowing freely now and she’s mad she can’t wipe them away because her hands are cuffed behind the back of her chair. “I saw you two get shot.”

 

     “And you drove away,” Chris leers. “You were supposed to die with us.”

 

     Myles shifts uncomfortably - he was always the most reasonable in their trio - but he says nothing.

 

     “I couldn’t,” she says imploringly. “I had to take them down with me because how else would I have lived with myself if it wasn’t for avenging you?”

 

     “Seems like you’ve made a fine home for yourself here,” Chris bites out. “What was step two, huh?”

 

     “Did you mourn us,” Myles asks quietly. He’s still kneeling next to her so Red cannot duck his gaze.

 

     “I did,” Red says, voice cracking, “I do.”

 

     “Then come back with us,” Myles says. His voice is soft and there’s an ache there that she feels in her bones.

 

     She sucks in a breath and the only sounds in this shipping container are her muffled sobbing. “I can’t.”

 

     “Then you aren’t ours anymore,” Chris says. For the first time, he looks sad, but that doesn’t stop him from drawing his gun. It’s sleek and matte black, definitely not something within their pay grade in SF.

 

     The doors to the shipping container are blown open and the impact knocks everyone on the floor. The light is blinding and someone throws a flashbang into the small room.

 

     Everything hurts and she feels like one of her arms is broken from taking the impact of the fall. Her vision is blurred but the combination of her pain and her crew on the ground makes her heart squeeze uncomfortably. “Status,” she screams out just to be able to hear her own voice over the ringing.

 

     “Good,” Chris immediately replies. The sunglasses must have shielded the flash.

 

     “Blinded, but not injured,” Myles adds in half a second later. “Armed.”

 

     “Injured,” she says. It takes a few seconds for this exchange but it feels so easy and familiar. She had to physically bite her tongue from giving out more orders.

 

     Dark laughter fills the silence before a purple smoke bomb is whipped into the shipping container and two shots ring out. Chris gasps and drops to one knee, gun coming up and aim into the smoke. The second bullet whiffs Myles but he rolls to one wall and takes a wild shot.

 

     Red can barely see blood seeping through Chris’s shirt. It grazed his shoulder; two inches lower would have killed him. Whoever was shooting was _good_. “Oh no,” she says.

 

     There’s two heavy footsteps and Chris shoots at where the person running should be, but Bee is smarter than that and she dives low, stabbing Chris in the knee before popping up and with a vicious uppercut. “Stay down,” she shouts at him, sparkly purple machine gun leveled at his eyes.

 

     Myles takes aim and Red jerks around to try and stop him but another bullet zips through the air and hits him in the forearm. His gun clatters to the ground and Kuro is suddenly running in and kicking him in the face. “Jenn!” they say.

 

     They whip out a knife and begin cutting the duct tape. Kuro knicks her once and she winces, but catches Chris’s eyes. He’s glaring and she feels her throat dry up. “Oh god; you’re alive,” they say. They wiggle a lock pick through her handcuffs and toss it to Bee, who catches without looking.

 

     “They care about you,” Chris sneers as Bee leans down to handcuff him. “We cared about you too, once upon a time.”

 

     “Shut up,” Red says, gently getting up so as not to tweak her broken arm. “We’re going.”

 

     Kuro puts their comm in Red’s ear as they take her uninjured arm and lead her out. “No,” Egg says softly. “They hurt you.”

 

     “Egg,” Red says, horror dawning.

 

     “They don’t get to hurt you and live.”

 

     It’s instinct, Red tells herself, as she dives in front of Chris. Egg’s a good sniper and the shot that would have gone to Chris’s head on the ground hits Red in the calf. She collapses and Kuro is shouting and Bee is shouting and Egg is silent. “Get out of there,” Egg finally says.

 

     Bee has finished cuffing Chris and roughly shoves him backward. “Don’t mess with Neon,” she says and Red has never heard her sound this cold.

 

      As Bee goes to help Kuro carry Red, Red hears a shuffling behind her. Myles has gotten up and is leveling his retrieved gun at them. “Myles,” Red says. She turns around and shoves Bee and Kuro behind her. She’ll take the shot, she’ll _die_ , for them. “Don’t.”

 

     Myles hesitates, wavers, and Red sees the gun shake. “Myles _please_.”

 

     In her peripherals, she sees the force of Chris’s glare shift. His eyes scream ‘do it’.

 

     Myles lowers the gun and Bee and Kuro pull Red backward until they disappear in the smoke. Just in case, Bee drops another smoke bomb.

 

     Chris and Myles see the blue smoke roll in and they sit in silence as the sounds of a car pulling away fade in the distance.

 

     “She ran again,” Chris says with disdain.

 

     “We’ll catch her again,” Myles counters.

 

     “Of course.”


	15. (Red) Stomach It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2/? of an origin story series for Red

[ Stomach It by Crywolf feat. EDEN ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmEK31ghdFM)

 

     She’s listless and quiet and everyone in the car pretends it’s from blood loss. Since the incident at the shipyard, it’s been on everyone’s minds.

 

     She took a bullet for them.

 

     She was ready to die for them.

 

      _Who were they?_

 

     Jealousy coils in in the pit of Egg’s stomach and they tighten their grip on the steering wheel. The darkness of the docks in Santa Monica give way to a freeway and they merge in seamlessly. Choosing to forego the safety of the penthouse, they leave the freeway after a few exits and turn into the mountainside, towards a safehouse. “Red,” Egg says and the name feels wrong on their tongue. “Out.”

 

     She looks up and meets Egg’s eyes in the rearview. Despite the mask, she does not flinch. “Okay,” she says. Kuro scoots out of the way to let her out, and then scoots back in and closes the door. They and Bee look out the windows on their respective sides, letting the silence envelop them.

 

     Egg opens the front door and ushers Red in. They make a beeline for the garage converted into a torture cell, and Red knows Egg is preparing. For what, Red can only guess.

 

     She takes the time to get a mug of coffee and let it try and warm her. A million thoughts race through her head, mainly how Chris and Myles got out of there alive. “Red,” Egg says again. They incline their unmasked head to the garage and Red downs the rest of her coffee before obeying their commands.

 

     The tarp is out, and so is the metal chair. She sits down and immediately offers her wrists for Egg to cuff. They close and lock the door behind them and wave off her show of submission. “Tell me about what happened in there,” they ask, crossing their arms.

 

     Red lets her hands drop and pulls her legs into a crossed position in the chair before remembering she has a clean gunshot through the calf; she readjusts with her uninjured leg folded underneath her and the other idly kicks around. She wanted to give her whole self to Egg, but some skeletons in the closet were never meant to see the light of day. “They’re my old crew,” Red begins, “Flight.

 

     “We were a four unit cell operating out of Santa Francesca, formed while we were still in high school. We were righteous kids who wanted to make the world better, one politician or billionaire at a time.”

 

     Egg snorts, but says nothing. Red’s ambition, even then, was her downfall.

 

     “We…” Red hesitates, before soldiering on. Egg deserved to hear it. “We lost Leo and Chris was never the same again.

 

     “He got angrier, reckless, and Myles and I were dragged along in his pursuit of revenge.”

 

     Egg pulls up their own chair. So far, they had the background characters and the setting for this tragedy.

 

     “It was a heist gone wrong,” Red says.

 

     “They always do,” Egg softly adds.

 

     Nodding, Red wipes tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. “Chris and Myles were both down; a mercenary gang shot us up before we could enter the police chief’s house.”

 

     “I…” Red pauses, “I asked for their status and neither of them responded.”

 

     The tears are pouring down now, skating down her cheeks and collecting at her chin before dropping and splattering on her jeans. “I left the van and ran to them.”

 

     “You were going to die with them,” Egg notes.

 

     Red winces, recalling the words Chris spit at her about an hour ago. “I wanted to.”

 

     “Why didn’t you?”

 

     Egg’s gaze is hard and Red tries to plead. “They cut me off.”

 

     The words are spilling out now. “Forced me back into the van. I pulled a gun and shot one and floored it. I was going to drive into the alley to die with them when a police car swiped me. They pushed me onto another street, and then another, and I couldn’t loop back.”

 

     Red sobs and Egg relents, getting up to grab a box of tissues from a shelf. They were angry at her, but not heartless. “You cut your losses and escaped.”

 

     She chokes out a sob and nods into the tissue. “I had to,” she nearly screams. “I had to.”

 

     “You came to Los Santos to escape,” Egg picks up the story from what little Red has dropped over the years. “You came here to hide in plain sight, to recover, and eventually...what?”

 

     “I was going to go back,” Red whispers hoarsely. “I was going to get money and power and revenge.”

 

     They want to point out that she’s sounding exactly how she described Chris earlier. “Okay,” they say.

 

     The silence stretches on, suffocates her, and they let it. She has to learn that something of this magnitude needs to be discussed.

 

     “Bee,” Egg taps the comm to establish a connection. “Get Kuro and get in here.”

 

     Egg stares at Red and she doesn’t meet their eyes. They turn to open the door for their partners and gesture them in.

 

     Red retells the story and there’s a mixture of anger and worry on their faces.

 

     “I was Blue Jay,” she says. She gently stands up, wobbles a little but none of her spouses step forward to steady her. Unbuttoning and pulling down her pants with her uninjured arm, she points to the bird tattoo on one thigh. “This wasn’t just a white girl phase tattoo.”

 

     Bee snorts.

 

     “Chris, the guy with sunglasses, is Yellow Canary. Myles, the guy with gloves in there, is Green Parakeet. Leo is…” Red trails off. She gets a distant look, reliving a memory she doesn’t want to. “Leo was Red Cardinal.”

 

     “Birds and colors,” Kuro murmurs. “You really _do_ have a theme.”

 

     “I shot at him,” Egg says. They remember the smoke parting and taking shots at the captors. Whenever the wind blew some clear, they took a shot before letting the smoke roll back in. It kept Chris and Myles from pinning Egg’s location, but it also kept Egg from constantly keeping watch on them. They had to rely on Bee’s and Kuro’s abilities to handle the situation.

 

     They relied on them for a lot of things.

 

     “You did,” Red says, skirting the point Egg is trying to make.

 

     “You got in my way.”

 

     “I know.”

 

     Egg strides forward, heavy combat boots making the tarp crinkle. They capture Red’s chin in their fingers and kiss her hard. Red automatically opens her mouth and Egg tries to taste _them_ on her lips.

 

     But they only taste her and that’s reassuring. “Let’s go home, Jenn,” Egg says, pulling back.

 

     Red pulls her pants back up and Bee helps her rebutton it. Kuro takes her uninjured arm and lets her lean on them.

 

     They hobble back to the car together.


	16. (Kuro) Twisted

[ Twisted by Missio ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFtA0ECKh6I)

 

    Their eyes tracked a path in the city, utilizing the back alleys and unused streets that they could slip through. It was child’s play at this point; they’ve been stalking their mark for about thirty minutes as they traversed through the red light district. She missed out on one too many payments and Red was getting impatient. “A fool who crosses Neon is a fool easily dispatched,” she had said when she called Kuro into her office. “Don’t hide the body,” she added as an afterthought, “I want everyone to know the price of cowardice.”

 

    Back then, Kuro had chuckled at Red’s seriousness, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that the mark was trying to leave the country and Red knew it. She expected the heat but could never prepare for the Demon to catch her.

 

    No one could escape the Demon.

 

    Sliding down the ladder, Kuro landed silently and began following her. Their shoulders were hunched and they had their hands in their pockets, tracing the decorative handle of a knife Bee gave them a few months prior. The alleys were empty, as Kuro predicted, and they easily made up the head start the mark had. As she ducked into a brothel, Kuro watched the entrance from the shadows of an overhang. They counted the seconds; she would probably come out soon with a suitcase of cash and hurry to her getaway plane in the airport three miles from here.

 

    Typically, Kuro would have had backup at the airport - Daiki was always more than happy to camp out a big plane that he could crash not on Red’s dime - but it was an easy job.

 

    That is, until five large men with machine guns exited the brothel and aimed at Kuro. They swore but the sound was drowned out by the clip of bullets into the metal storefront barricade. As they ducked back into the alley, they felt a bullet graze their calf and they hissed in pain. Sprinting, they kept taking the back streets to escape.

 

    The low growl of a motorcycle made them hesitate. The job, first and foremost, was to kill the mark; everything else was secondary.

 

    Their eyes searched for a ladder and were rewarded after ducking into the back street of a restaurant. Scrambling up, they saw a bullet ping next to their right hand and it spurred them up faster. Once on the roof, they took a second to catch their breath before sliding to the edge of the building to look for the motorcycle.

 

    Metal flashed as she zipped under a street light and Kuro groaned. Pulling out their phone, they charted a few different paths she could take to get to the airport when they realized:

 

    Kuro didn’t need to follow the streets to catch her.

 

    Someone shouted behind them and they saw a hand just getting to the rooftop. Turning back around, they looked at a building slightly below them and backed up. “Hey!” someone said and they were sure a gun was about to be aimed at their back.

 

    They jumped.

 

    The wind pulled at their hoodie and they clapped a hand to their pocket just in case their weapons fell out. As their foot hit the rooftop, they transferred their weight into a roll onto their shoulder, and then around back to their knees. The impact knocked the wind out of them, but they had no time to lose. Checking their phone one last time, they pocketed it and began running.

 

    There was something oddly liberating about seeing a city from the rooftops. On any other night, they might have stopped to admire the way lights flickered on in buildings like fireflies or how the ebb and flow of traffic was almost organic.

 

    But no, they were running full speed after someone they needed to kill. They took the next few jumps as well as the first until a bullet clipped their side and they landed with a thud. Sucking in a breath, they pressed a hand to their left hip and it came away bloody. “Fuck,” they said. The pain hadn’t hit them yet, but they knew they had about fifteen minutes before this would be a problem.

 

    Somewhere, someone sniped at them. They were torn: keep running and pray that was a lucky shot or find the sniper, take them out, and then stop the mark from getting on a plane to Japan.

 

    They yanked a hook from their back pocket, snapping it open and locking it in place. As they reeled back for a running start, a bullet zipped by them.

 

    That was a mistake. Now they pinned where the sniper was.

 

    Before, they stuck to rooftops that were close together so they could make jumps or climbs easily. But if Kuro wanted to cross the street, they were going to need to swing. Exhaling, they began swinging the grappling hook as they ran, whipping it across the street as they jumped. It caught and they felt the initial yank of rope in their hands. Balling up, they smashed through the window and tumbled. They drew their gun and aimed, firing twice.

 

    The sniper jerked left as the first shot hit them, but the second missed. They turned, swinging the rifle around.

 

    Too slow, Kuro was springing up with a knife. As they got up from their kneeled position they tackled the sniper and slit their throat. Blood gushed all over their jacket and they grimaced. They whipped the rope of the grappling hook and it unstuck from the roof. As they got to edge of the window they broke in to, they hooked it on and dropped from the fourth floor. The frictional carabiners took most of the momentum out of their fall, but their arms burned from exertion from holding onto them as they slid down the rope. They were less than a mile from the airport and they could still hear the rumble of the motorcycle, so they knew they were close.

 

    They knew their cover was blown anyway, so they broke into a run. Cutting across a back alley, they noted that they were in an abandoned section of the city. All the buildings had broken windows or were boarded up with wood. The only people that lived here were squatters.

 

    Catching sight of the motorcycle, they leapt through an open window and swerved around the kitchen counter to kick out the back door. They were close enough; they drew their gun and fired.

 

    The mark screamed as the bullet ripped her tire apart and she was thrown over the handlebars. Kuro  jogged forward, gun up and ready. They approached the unmoving body and only slightly lowered the gun before the mark tackled them. She ducked under Kuro’s bullet and shoved them to the floor.

 

    As their head hit the street, they briefly saw stars before the mark got on top of them, straddling them to get better leverage. She wrestled the gun from their hands and threw it behind them. “You,” she snarled, rearing a fist back and decking Kuro right in the face. Their mask squished against their nose and they tasted blood. As she pulled back again, Kuro twisted their hips to knock her off balance.

 

    She put her hands down on their chest to steady herself and they reached into their pocket to draw their knife. Pushing off the street, they drove it deep into her gut and twisted. Her eyes flew open and she gasped in pain. Kuro kept pressing, eventually sitting up and pinning her to the street.

 

    Her teeth were bared in pain and she spat a glob of blood at Kuro’s mask. They grimaced but didn’t move until she stopped struggling and went limp in their arms.

 

    Throwing her off them, they exhaled deeply as the adrenaline faded and all the pain came rushing in at the same time. Getting to their feet, they yanked the mark’s shirt off and used it to wipe the blood from their mask. They collected their gun from where it was thrown and then stowed it once again.

 

    They withdrew a permanent marker from the pocket of their jeans and wrote on her bare chest: _Don’t fuck with NE_ _ØN_ _._

 

    Satisfied with their handiwork, they took her wallet and phone, smashing the latter under their shoe. They made sure they had everything they needed and hurried to the car they parked in the airport parking lot. Job complete, time to go home, get bandaged up by Huny, and sleep.


	17. (Bee) Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee knew two things: she was the baddest motherfucker here and she wasn’t allowed to flaunt it yet.

[ Dangerous by LEFT BOY ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h5Qrd818tDs)

 

     Bee knew two things: she was the baddest motherfucker here and she wasn’t allowed to flaunt it yet.

 

     She waded through the crowd, hip bumping people who got too close or slipping between dancers. The club lights pulsed and the darkness between the flashes was her element. She liked a certain finesse to her chaos; she nurtured it and made it Hers.

 

     But for now, she had somewhere to be and a job to do. Red had been trying to get into the drug trade game and her incredibly limited knowledge meant she left it to Bee.

 

\---

 

_Bee distinctly remembers walking into Red’s office at 2AM to see her sitting on the floor with a bunch of papers scattered around her. She only had a brief glance at them before Red mumbled, “LSD is…” Her back was to the doorway and Bee saw her shoulders hunch. There was the sound of a paper flipping and Red read the back of the card, “LSD is a hallucinogenic drug in pill form. Other common names are: acid, tabs, or loony toons.”_

 

_Bee smothered a laugh before backing up silently and reapproaching the door with overtly loud footsteps. She hesitated outside and heard paper shuffling. As she opened the door, Red was in her office chair, seemingly casual, and beckoned Bee in. “Bee,” she greeted._

 

_“Heyo,” Bee said back, “you wanted to see me?”_

 

_Red nodded before sliding a paper across the desk to her wife. “Do you know this woman?” On the paper was a purple haired, thirty something year old woman. She had the sharpest nails Bee has ever seen and she suppressed the urge to call her obviously straight. “Her name is Ridley and she’s in charge of the cartels down south.”_

 

_Humming in affirmation, Bee took a second to collect her thoughts. “I know her,” Bee said, “ships to pretty much every port city along the west coast.”_

 

_"I want in on that business,” Red said, “and I want you to handle it.”_

 

_Bee blinked and tilted her head in an endearing motion that automatically made Red’s heart melt. “Me?”_

 

_“Yes, you.”_

 

_“Why?”_

 

_Red smiled softly and reached across the table to lace her fingers with Bee’s. “I trust you.”_

 

\---

 

     Someone stepped on Bee’s foot and she brought her hands up to gently shove them away from her. Even if the woman was wearing heels, it didn’t particularly hurt because Bee was wearing custom made combat boots.

 

     She was nearly at the private room Ridley booked for this meeting. It wasn’t every day that a representative of one of the most notorious gangs on the west coast met with another infamous cartel leader to talk shop.

 

     As she parted the curtain, she saw Ridley lounged out on the couch in a pose that seemed to exude power. Bee almost rolled her eyes at the display of dominance; between Egg and Red’s constant need for control, Bee wasn’t particularly impressed. “Hello,” she greeted, stepping into the room. There were three burly men behind Ridley, a man to Bee’s left, and a woman to Bee’s right. The people on either side of her were the only ones visibly armed. The big enforcers looked like they were trying to be intimidating, one had a scar across the cheek, one had a mohawk, and one had a red bandana across his mouth.

 

     Ridley held up a hand and Bee stopped in her tracks. “My guards will remove your weapons now,” she said.

 

     Snapping her fingers, the man with a machine gun stepped forward. “May I have your guns, please,” he asked. He nodded slightly at the woman, and she held up a bin. “They will be returned to you after negotiations.”

 

     Bee’s hands drifted to the guns tucked at her hips and she rested her thumbs on the straps. “Guns,” she repeated. “Don’t scratch them; they were gifts.”

 

     “Noted,” the man said.

 

     “Or else I will kill you.”

 

     He furrowed his eyebrows. “Okay.”

 

     Satisfied, Bee unlatched them from the holster and put them in the bin. The woman nodded at her and Bee stepped away. “Ridley,” Bee said, striding forward and sitting in the cushioned chair across from Ridley. “Neon is proposing an alliance with you.”

 

     Ridley made a circling motion with her index finger and someone approached and put a martini in her hand. “Yes, your boss mentioned that in an email.” Sipping from her drink, she quirked an eyebrow. “Would you like something to drink?”

 

     Bee put a hand up. “Red told me not to drink on the job.” That earned a laugh and Bee smiled. “We are willing to offer your shipments protection in our warehouses and distribution in our territory for a 70% cut.” Red had left the price negotiation up to Bee because she had more experience in the field than Red. Where Red could negotiate tech, Egg was in control of weapons, and Huny was in control of medical devices… Bee was the one in control of drugs.

 

     “Steep,” Ridley commented. “What kinds of guards are you offering that I cannot provide myself?”

 

     “Ones hired under us are locals, so they have home turf advantage and loyalty to us, first and foremost.” As an afterthought, Bee added, “and if we say you’re with us, then they’ll listen.”

 

     “And local warehouses cuts down on my transportation costs,” Ridley thought aloud. “70 is still too high though.”

 

     One of Ridley’s guards shuffled behind her and Bee squinted. “65%,” Bee said.

 

     “30%.”

 

     Scoffing, Bee crossed her arms. “60%.”

 

     Ridley raised an eyebrow. “You drive a hard bargain, girl.”

 

     Bee frowned. “My name is Bee.”

 

     Plowing right through Bee’s interjection, Ridley said, “and we don’t need Neon’s permission to sell in your territory.”

 

     Tilting her head in confusion, Bee narrowed her eyes and asked, “what’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

 

     “I mean,” Ridley said and she casually raised her arm, “we can take it ourselves.”

 

     “Do you think you can take on the main ten crew yourself?”

 

     Ridley smiled and Bee felt the atmosphere in the room shift. “Nine, actually, starting with you.”

 

     Ridley closed her hand into a fist and the three men behind her lunged. Bee bent forward, pulling a pin from the heel of her shoe and kicking upwards to face the flashbang embedded in the bottom of her boot at the assailants. She closed her eyes, but still saw the white light press through her eyelids. In the sole of the other boot, she withdrew a knife and backflipped off the couch. A hand grabbed her by the the neck and slammed her face into the back of the chair.

 

     Bee snarled and blood gushed from her nose. She swiped with her knife and felt a splash of blood on her arm, twisting the knife and making the woman scream. Looking down, Bee caught sight of her pistol in the woman’s jacket pocket.

 

     She stabbed the woman again and let go of the knife in exchange for grabbing the gun. Out of her peripheral vision, Bee saw the man by the door whip around his machine gun and Bee kicked the woman at him.

 

     They collided and the woman slumped to the floor, desperately clutching at the knife to pull it out. Bee’s gun arm came around and shot the man in the chest once. Apparently, he had a finger on the trigger already and he let loose a stream of bullets across the room as he jerked from the gunshot. A few caught Bee across the thigh and she dropped to the floor hard.

 

     Lunging forward, she rolled to avoid the next pass of bullets and kicked the man in the crotch, causing him to double over and Bee used his momentum to yank him down and put a final bullet between his eyes.

 

     Now that she was closer, she grabbed her other gun from the dead woman’s pocket and the knife from her chest, and stood up to kill Ridley.

 

     The man with the scar recovered from the flashbang and vaulted the couch to get to Bee. She backed up and fired twice, one from each gun in either hand. The first missed, but the second clipped him in the shoulder. He roared at her and she felt the curtain at her back. Firing again, she missed and he brought a hand up to push her hard.

 

     Tucking her chin in, she let her weight shift and transferred it into a roll backwards. The curtain gave way behind her and she hit the dance floor, the colored squares flashing purple and white under her. Bee turned in surprise, suddenly aware that all the patrons were gone.

 

     The curtains dropped and all three enforcers were suddenly running at her, the man with the scar between the others and closest to her. [ Bee flicked her right wrist and the cuff shot out a flat disk. As it hit the floor, it activated and an arc of electricity flew towards Scar Face’s legs. ](https://youtu.be/nJn1LjLaNVQ?t=37)

 

     He sputtered and Bee brought up both pistols to shoot at Bandana and Mohawk. Mohawk got grazed but neither stopped and Bee was forced to duck under Mohawk’s right punch. Twisting, she wedged her gun between her and his body and she pulled the trigger.

 

     The man shouted in pain and staggered, and she was briefly grateful for the respite before getting a punch to the stomach. Bandana pressed forward as Bee was thrown backwards and the guns clattered from her hands. Flailing, Bee slammed into the floor and her hand went to the base of her spine where she had her second knife. Bandana stepped on her arm and prevented her from pulling it out.

 

     Bee bucked upwards to try and throw him off, but he only pressed harder. Mohawk was getting up and Bee’s chances of getting out alive were dwindling. Trying again, she kicked her legs up and found purchase on Bandana’s knee. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled, causing him to ease off to avoid falling.

 

     Once enough weight was off her arm, she swung out with the knife and stabbed him in the knee. Throwing him on the floor, she rolled to her side to avoid Mohawk from stomping on her. She flicked her left wrist and a disk shot directly at him. It exploded in a puff of smoke in his face. He coughed and Bee tackled him to the flood, stabbing him repeatedly in the chest.

 

     Turning back around she blocked Bandana’s left hook and she kneed him hard in the gut. He bent forward and Bee brought an elbow down on the back of his neck. Reaching around, she stabbed him in the torso before flipping her grip on the knife and slitting his throat.

 

     As the adrenaline began to fade, Bee let out a shaky breath and collected her guns. Now, only Ridley was left. As she looked up, Ridley was nowhere to be found. “Shit,” Bee said. Her eyes scanned the area and fell on the slight crack of light under the door to the kitchen. Sprinting, Bee kicked the door open and was greeted by an empty kitchen.

 

     Bee didn’t have to wait long before a metal frying pan flew at her. Ducking, she took cover behind a table and kept her fingers on the trigger. “Die, bitch!” Ridley shouted. Bee tried pinning her location based on her voice, but the acoustics of the room made it hard.

 

     “Yeah? Come out here and kill me yourself!” Bee shot back just to get her to talk again and let Bee find her.

 

     “Fuck you,” Ridley snarled and Bee’s eyes caught a shadow move on the wall. “I wouldn’t have to do this if your fucking crew didn’t get in the way of me and profits.”

 

     A shadow on the wall moved and Bee sprang up, firing three times in quick succession. All three bullets landed true and Ridley hit the wall from the force of the shots. “You ruin people for an extra dollar in your pocket,” Bee said, slowly walking forward with her guns trained on Ridley.

 

     She slumped to the floor, blood streaking on the wall behind her. “You were looking for an alliance,” she said, “you’re a hypocrite for calling my business evil and yours good.”

 

     “We don’t deal to the same communities you throw under the bus,” Bee said. “We deal to the fat cats and ballers that run this game.”

 

     “You’re no better than me.”

 

     Bee raised her gun and pressed it to Ridley’s forehead. “We give back to our people instead of turning them out on the streets and ruining their lives by involving them in crime.”

 

     “They’re worthless and so are you,” Ridley spit out.

 

     The bullet was impossibly loud in the kitchen and Bee sighed. The blood splattered all over and Bee whipped her gun to get the blood off it. Retracing her steps, she collected her weapons and made sure everyone was dead. Their wallets sat snugly in her pockets.

 

     As soon as she made her last sweep for anything of value, she passed the bar and a reflective panel on a machine caught her eye. Upon closer inspection, she grinned.

 

\---

 

     “Hey uh,” Egg asked from the doorway of the kitchen. “Is that a cotton candy machine in our living room?”

 

     Huny didn’t look up from their work. The suture needle in their hands sunk effortlessly into Bee’s leg to sew the bullet wound closed. The bullets themselves sat on a tray on the kitchen table; they had a difficult time retrieving them.

 

     “Yeah,” Bee said, “it was the club’s.”

 

     Egg smiled. “Nice,” they said. “I’ll make you something.”

 

     “Thanks, Egg.”

 

     They disappeared and Huny patted Bee’s knee. Bee barely felt it; the anesthetic making her whole leg feel tingly. “Done,” they said. “Don’t do anything too…” Huny trailed off. “You know, if I tell you to take it easy, you’re going to do the opposite.”

 

     Bee smiled. “Yeah, probably.”

 

     A fond look crossed Huny’s face and they patted Bee on the head. “Still, don’t reopen those stitches or Red will kill me.”

 

     “I think she’d kill _me_.”

 

     “I wouldn’t kill either of you.” Red peeked into the kitchen and looked at them. “Thanks, Hun,” she said. “Where would we be without you?”

 

     “Dead,” Huny immediately said but the smile on their face betrayed them. “That’s why you keep me around.”

 

     “Of course,” Red said. She handed Huny a few hundred dollar bills. “Buy more equipment; anything you want.”

 

     Huny nodded before walking past Red. “Bye, Bee, please don’t die.”

 

     Bee waved after them and then shifted their attention to Red when they left. “Ridley’s dead," she reported.

 

     Red walked forward before sitting on the floor between Bee’s legs. She rested a cheek on Bee’s knee and looked up at her with adoration. “We can do better,” Red said. “You did well.”

 

     Bee beamed at the praise. “I can call up a few favors and find us another partner.”

 

     Making a noise of approval, Red pressed a soft kiss to Bee’s thigh. “When you’re ready,” she agreed easily. “Rest and recovery for now.”

 

     Smiling at the gesture, Bee bent forward to peck Red’s cheek. “I will.”

 

     “I love you.”

 

     “I love you, too.”

 

     “I made cotton candy,” Egg said, their head popping around the corner. They entered the room with three bundles. “Here,” they said, giving one to Bee. They crossed their legs and sat on the floor next to Red. They handed one bundle to her and pulled a wisp from theirs to put into their mouth. “Welcome home.”


	18. (OG6) Legendary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peering into her scope, Bruise tracked the lights of a police car in the distance. “Only one cop,” Bruise said. “Probably just checking to see the break-in.”
> 
> “And if they see a whole ass gang laid out around the office building of a politician?”
> 
> Bruise’s adrenaline spiked and she tightened her grip on the gun. “Probably half the force will come running.”

[ Legendary by Welshly Arms ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o5jlLJa2Zhs)

 

    Egg’s crosshairs tracked a security guard pacing in front of the building. “On your call,” they whispered into the comms. They exhaled slowly, breath clouding in the cold winter night air and making their face warmer behind the mask.

 

    “Huny, Bee,” Red said to call their attention, “are you ready?”

 

    “Yeah,” Huny replied, shotgun resting lightly in their hands. They threw a sideways grin at Bee who smirked back. “We’re ready.”

 

    “Kuro,” Red said. “Standby for police.”

 

    “Ready,” they said. They sat comfortably on the rooftop across from Egg. The bags surrounding Kuro were filled to the zippers with explosives to handle the first responders on the scene. Of course, as soon as the first bomb dropped, their cover would be blown and they’d need to relocate. “Can we hurry this up? I’m cold.”

 

    “Bet,” Bee said, index fingers drumming on the sides of her machine guns. She double checked her guns, then the knives sheathed at the small of her back, then her crown atop her head.

 

    Bruise chuckled under her breath. She was positioned on a rooftop a few blocks down the main street to the office. If people wanted to take the shortest route to the building, they’d have to pass her and her sniper rifle. She wasn’t as good a shot as Egg, no one was, but she could thin the crowd before the main force got to Huny and Bee. “Can we get this over with?” she asked, “I think my elbows are frozen to the floor because I’ve been laying down all night.”

 

    “I told you to bring an extra jacket,” Red chided. Despite that, she smiled to herself; Red sat in the getaway van, two alleys over from the target and planted there since last week to not raise suspicion. Her pistol sat on her backpack; ideally, she wouldn’t need to leave the van, but if she did, she was decent enough for cover fire.

 

    As her laptop shut down the external security systems and cameras, she had to rely on Huny’s digital expertise to crack into the internal security systems and get to the sensitive files. Their goal was to publish the financial records of this politician that used taxpayer money for less than legal activities with anonymous recipients.

 

    Breathing out, she watched the progress bar read 100% before counting down. “Egg,” she said to get their attention.

 

    “Three.”

 

    “Two.”

 

    “One.”

 

    Immediately, a silenced shot dropped the security guard in front of the building. Egg chuckled softly in their mic; the sound would have been more unnerving if the crew hadn’t already been used to it. “Go.”

 

    Huny and Bee sprinted around the corner, breaking through a side window to enter the building. No alarms rang because they were suppressed by Red’s program. “Fuck!” Huny exclaimed.

 

    A shotgun blast echoed in the crisp winter night and Red winced. “What happened?”

 

    “Another guard,” Bee said, “we got this.”

 

    Sliding her laptop from her lap to the dashboard, Red grabbed the pistol and lightly rested it on her knee; it was hidden but still easy to access. She waited for a few more seconds until Huny chipped in on the intercom, “We found the logistics room; give me a few minutes to hack in.”

 

    “Hacker voice: I’m in,” Bee laughed before sirens began ringing out of the building. Through the windows, it looked bright red.

 

    “Oh, no,” Kuro deadpanned, rolling onto their knees to grab some grenades.

 

    “It’s about to get litty,” Bee said, the smile apparent in her voice.

 

    “Bruise, Egg, Kuro,” Red said, “take out anyone that gets too close.”

 

    Seconds passed and Huny was rapidly stabbing their fingers into the keyboard of the computer they commandeered. The code was inputting and the command bar blinked expectantly, but the alarms refused to quit. “I can’t shut it down!” they said. “I’m just going to get the documents!”

 

    “You got this,” Red encouraged as she tossed her gun onto the dashboard and restarted the suppressant program on her laptop. She must have missed something! How did she not stop the secondary alarms? “I’m looking for the second system but I can’t find it,” she said, voice pitching frantically.

 

    That was  _ her _ team in the field and she’ll be damned if she loses another crew. She refused to bury any more bodies; she’d rather die with them.

 

    The whoop of a siren in the distance made Red miss a key. “Bruise, what do you see,” she asked.

 

    Peering into her scope, Bruise tracked the lights of a police car in the distance. “Only one cop,” Bruise said. “Probably just checking to see the break-in.”

 

    “And if they see a whole ass gang laid out around the office building of a politician?”

 

    Bruise’s adrenaline spiked and she tightened her grip on the gun. “Probably half the force will come running.”

 

    “Shit,” Bee said. She anxiously paced around the computers before heading toward the door. “I’ll be in the lobby just in case.”

 

    “Thanks, Bee,” Huny said, glad they could get away from her nervousness. Clicking the keyboard, they pulled up the login directory, inputting the credentials to the politician to access his personal files.

 

    Kuro grabbed the information three days ago when they snuck in to get some initial looks at the place. It was lucky and they hid in the air ducts and watched the Council Member Stevenson input his login ID and the password. They passed the information to Red and she nearly laughed; the password was a birthday, but not his, his wife’s, or his daughters’. Oh, no, it was the birthday of his mistress.

 

    Huny focused on the screen in front of them; anything and everything he had would be downloaded onto their encrypted hard drive and uploaded into common-license, free space internet. Nearly untraceable and with Huny’s and Red’s combined computer expertise, they’d be pretty much in the clear. “Three percent done,” they updated everyone.

 

    “Good,” Red said. She was still rooting around for whatever triggered the alarm when something tapped her window. Her hand reached for her gun on the dashboard but the cocking of the gun outside made her freeze. “Uh, hi?” she said.

 

    She knew her microphone picked up her voice when Egg sharply asked, “what happened?”

 

    The man outside the window was missing a few teeth and she grimaced at the cigarette smoke stains. “Get out of the car, lady,” he said. He was an older man, hair unkempt and stubble making him look like an old timey sailor. “Hurry up before I blow that head off your shoulders.”

 

    “Okay, sir,” Red said, slowly and overtly taking her laptop off her lap and putting it in the passenger seat. She kept her hands visible and made sure to not glance at her gun. “So what crew sent you?”

 

    The man laughed and it sounded hoarse; Red wrinkled her nose because the smell of cigarette smoke always made her gag. “Mouthy,” he said. When she opened the car door, he grabbed her by the collar and threw her on the ground.

 

    “Fuck!” she shouted on impact, catching herself on her side and feeling the beginnings of an abrasion and bruise on her elbow. Someone swore under their breath in the comms, but Red ignored it in favor of the current threat.

 

    “You’ve got an awfully foul mouth for being a cute little girl,” the man commented and Red shivered in disgust. “Now play nice or else.”

 

    “Or else what, asshole?” This smart mouth of hers was going to get her killed one day.

 

    The man shot her in the shoulder and she screamed. Her hand came up to try and stop the bleeding but she felt it dripping onto the cold cement. “Who sent you?” she yelled at him.

 

    “Stevenson,” the man said. Red froze in surprise. “Yeah, big man pays a lot to protect his office.”

 

    The gears turned in Red’s head. Stevenson paid this man to protect his office. The office that he ran to pull extra income from selling ‘failing’ properties to the highest bidder, thus gentrifying the area. The people pushed out of the area were forced into overcrowded communities and crime skyrockets. They feed the school to prison pipeline and he collects on the taxes from the private prisons. Anyone that didn’t get arrested right off the bat became a criminal like the man in front of her. The next criminal was available to hire to protect the office again if Scapegoat #1 failed. He profits off crime without the risk. Rinse and repeat.

 

    Red’s blood boiled and she glared at the man. He laughed at her expression and asked, “what’s got you so sour?” He must not have put the dots together.

 

    Just as she was about to respond, she caught a glint of light on the building above her. As her eyes flicked to it, the man turned and got a bullet between the eyes. “Jenn!” Bruise shouted as she climbed down the fire escape and shouldered her sniper rifle. “Oh god, there’s so much blood.”

 

    Red blinked and realized her comm had fallen out of her ear when she fell. Bruise picked it up and put it in her ear. Immediately, she heard shouting for her. “Hey,” she said as Bruise helped her sit up and yanked off her jacket to staunch the blood.

 

    “WHAT DO YOU MEAN  _ HEY _ ,” Huny shouted just to be heard over the wailing alarms. “ARE YOU OKAY?”

 

    “Red,” Egg said softly. Their voice cut through the chaos and everyone quieted. “What happened.”

 

    Bruise tied the sleeves tight around Red’s shoulder and she flinched. “A man got the drop on me,” she said. She looked at Bruise, pointed at the man, and then pointed at the truck. “We’re going to take the body and I want Kuro and Egg to find his crew.”

 

    “Got it,” Kuro said. “But first, we’ve got a situation.”

 

    There was an explosion down the street and Bruise accidentally dropped the body. Recovering, she pulled the man’s corpse into Red’s van and closed the door. “I’m going back to my post,” Bruise said. “Don’t die.”

 

    Red nodded at her and slowly got to her feet. “What’s it looking like?” she asked, gingerly opening the door and sitting in the driver’s seat. She pulled the laptop in front of her with her left hand and regretted not being able to type with her dominant hand. Sighing, she also realized she wouldn’t be able to shoot right handed since her right shoulder had been shot clean through.

 

    “Five police cars left,” Kuro whispered, rolling away from the rooftop to hide. “I took one out with a proximity mine I planted down the street.”

 

    “Bruise got one driver before she went to rescue you,” Egg said, sights tracking the lead police officer. “I can get this little piggy if Bruise can get his friend.”

 

    “Dumb looking, white one, right?” Bruise asked for confirmation. She was panting slightly from climbing back up the ladder and running to her prior position.

 

    Egg snorted. “All of them are dumb and white, but I think we’re talking about the same duo so I’m going to give us a countdown.”

 

    “We’ve got the place surrounded!” the lead officer said into a megaphone. “Come out with you--”

 

    Egg shot him through the throat and Bruise’s shot came a half second after. “What happened to the countdown?” Bruise asked.

 

    “They were bossing around Bee and only one of us is allowed to boss around Bee,” Egg said. Red cleared her throat and Egg amended, “two of us.”

 

    Huny laughed but it sounded tense. “Fifteen percent,” they said. “You have to buy us more time.” They looked longingly at the shotgun in their lap but ignored it in favor of looking at other files in the executive directory. “Bee, can you go cause a distraction?”

 

    It was like lighting a match; Bee was out the door before Huny finished the sentence. She took in the police officers who were just running to assist the two Egg and Bruise shot. As they turned to look at her, she swung her purple machine guns up and opened fire. They sparkled in the street lamp light and she began laughing, vicious and amused and too happy to dispose of some assholes. The muzzle fire lit her face up and Kuro could see the grin from their rooftop.

 

    “Oh god,” Kuro said. There were streaks, more like  _ splashes _ of blood on the street and a minute passed and it was all over. There were now eleven bodies on the street and sirens in the distance. “Did you know we married Chaos?” they asked, shouldering their duffel of explosives to get ready to move rooftops. “Because I did not know we married Chaos.”

 

    “I knew,” Egg chirped. They yanked off the silencer on their rifle; if their cover was blown they they might as well increase their fire rate. “Bee and I were a thing since the beginning.”

 

    “Aw, Egg,” Bee smirked. She checked the clips on her machine guns and hurried inside the building to reload. “I think our anniversary is coming up too.”

 

    “March, right?” Egg asked. “March 17?”

 

    “Yeah,” she said. Now that her guns were reloaded, she flicked the safeties on and looked out the windows. “How much longer, Huny?”

 

    “Twenty two percent,” they said. “Give me like 20 more minutes.” They flicked the mouse cursor over every file they could. What they couldn’t download, they took pictures of on their phone for later. “30 tops.”

 

    “A whole thirty tops?” Red asked, feigning surprise. “Who are the other twenty-nine?”

 

    “God can you imagine,” Bruise deadpanned. “Thirty Reds, all fighting for control.”

 

    “That’s hot,” Egg commented. They shimmied to another corner of the building to look into the distance toward the precinct. “Oh fuck.”

 

    “What’s up?” Bruise asked.

 

    “Remember when you said half the police force was coming down,” Egg began.

 

    “Oh, no,” Kuro said.

 

    “Oh, yes,” Bee said.

 

    Bruise kicked the mounts on her rifle off and stood up to get a better view of the distance. Egg was right, a whole trail of red-blue lights was streaming directly towards them. She swallowed hard, inwardly cursing herself for being right. “I think we’ll need to evacuate the city after we get out of this,” she said.

 

    Huny made a disgruntled sound as they read the progress bar. “Thirty-seven percent,” they said. “We can use Safehouse Three.”

 

    Red blinked. “Bypassing One and Two?” She had given up on trying to stop the alarms and now set about the task of making back up plans. “I don’t think we have to go out of state for this,” she said.

 

    “Not out of state, just on the border,” Huny said. “You  _ know _ which safehouse I’m referring to, right?”

 

    “I know,” Red said. “I just can’t believe we’re going to get that much heat from this.”

 

    “We’re stealing the private files of a councilmember,” Egg said. The trail of red-blue lights was getting closer and they readied themself for the fight. “Did you think we were going to get away from this clean?”

 

    Some naive hope inside her still believed they could get away from this cleanly. They’ve pulled off heists before, on banks and other gang’s warehouses. But no, this was going to put them on the radar and there was no going back from that. “No,” she said. “We finish this now and then we escape.”

 

    Huny felt the gears turning in Red’s head and they prompted, “what’s the plan?”

 

    “Egg, Kuro,” she said to get their attention, “you’re on front door detail; take out anyone in the street and incoming officers. Try and save the cars so you can use them to escape later.”

 

    “On it,” Kuro said.

 

    “Bruise, Bee,” she said next, “you’re in the back alleys. Make sure your escape routes are free.”

 

    “I can do that,” Bruise said, picking up her rifle and hurrying to the other side of the building. From her vantage point, she could see the side streets and spaces where there might be other police trying to lay an ambush.

 

    “Hun,” Red began.

 

    “Fifty-ish percent and I know,” they said, abandoning the chair and grabbing their rifle. “Let the download run and grab any physical copies.”

 

    Red smiled at their easy communication. “You know the drill,” she praised.

 

    “Been at this longer than you have,” they said. “Now do whatever you’re going to do and try not to die this time.” Someone huffed a laugh.

 

    “I haven’t died yet,” Red quipped. Their joking made the team feel less stressed so she was going to run with it. She started the car and pulled up a police map she hacked into a few hours ago. It relayed the locations of the police, at least, the ones with their beacons on. She saw what police coordinators saw and ideally she could lead some away.

 

    “Yet,” Huny reminded her, grabbing fistfuls of documents and putting them in the binder in their backpack. “I can only stitch you back together so many times.” They pulled at the handle to a drawer in the desk and it didn’t open. Feeling out with their fingers, they made a face and pulled out their lockpicks. Shimmying the strips of metal into the lock, they wiggled it around until it unclicked.

 

    As it opened, they nearly gagged. “Oh god, why is there vomit in this drawer.”

 

    Bruise gagged at the sound of Huny gagging. “Gross,” she said. The police were a minute away and she felt oddly stiff. This wasn’t the first time she was going to get into a firefight, but each time made her anxious.

 

    “There’s a safe behind one of the picture frames,” Kuro said. “I didn’t see what was in it, but I know it’s there.”

 

    “Thanks, Kuro,” Huny said, slamming the drawer shut and moving to the walls. “Is it the one with the ducks?”

 

    Kuro looked at the gap between the building they were on and the neighboring building. Exhaling slowly, they secured their duffel of explosives and jumped. The cold cement had no give and they rolled to disperse the force of the impact. “Ow, and no,” they said. They gingerly touched their shoulder and felt the scratchy abrasion beginning to form there. “Painting of a red car, I think.”

 

    Huny’s eyes roamed and they found the painting. Passing the computer, they read, “Sixty-two percent.” As they got to the painting, they yanked it off and unceremoniously dropped it on the floor. The safe was built into the wall and looked sturdy; the dial had a hundred numbers and they swallowed. “Shit, I don’t think I can test all the possible combinations in time,” they said.

 

    “It’s not the mistress’s birthday?” Red asked. “12-27-69?”

 

    “Haha, sixty-nine,” Bee said. She was prowling the alleys around the building to make sure they were empty. Her footsteps sounded impossibly loud in the quiet and she tried to steady her breathing. She was fine; the escape routes were clear and there were no bombs or traps as far as she was aware.

 

    Huny spun the dial to put in the date and they made an annoyed whine. “Not that,” they said. Pressing an ear to the door, they twisted the dial slowly, trying to hear for a click. The background noise from the comms made them furrow their eyebrows in concentration and they ended up yanking it out. A heart beat later, they heard it and looked at the number. “First number is a 0, I think,” they said after putting the comm back in.

 

    Red was already driving along a side street. It ran parallel to the main street but, by virtue of being in a residential and having stop signs, most people didn’t use it. Red was not most people; she was not beholden to basic safety laws. Her plan was to cut off the force, speeding in front of them as if she actually had something, and lead them on a wild goose chase around Los Santos. “It can’t be…” she trailed off.

 

    “Is it fucking 0-0-0,” Egg said. They tracked Red’s car as it zipped away and then shifted back to the lead car in the police force.

 

    Huny inputted the numbers and there was a soft click as the door swung open. “Oh my god,” they said, “Egg, you’re right.” Inside were a few binders with what looked like ledgers. Everything was hand written, probably to be “off the books” and there were detailed receipts of transactions, locations, purchases, and suppliers. A whole treasure trove of information  and dirty laundry in Huny's hands and they felt their heart race from the excitement. 

 

    “Who leaves the safe on the original combination?” Bruise asked. Her sights lined up on the lead driver and she half-squeezed the trigger, riding the edge. “That’s just lazy.”

 

    “They’re old,” Red said, “they probably would forget a more difficult combination.” She heard the cars and took a hard left to get in front of them. As she passed, she screamed, “COME AND GET ME,” before hauling ass away.

 

    Bruise watched in awe as the first police car swerved to follow her, but the car after them didn’t respond fast enough. They collided and Bruise shot at their tire. When it popped, the hub scraped the floor and the metal sparked.

 

    “Good shot,” Egg said, lining up to pop some more tires. If they could get the cars to take each other out, their job would be substantially easier. Egg shot and the car swerved, their front bumper colliding with another car’s. The car flipped over and more cars in the lineup had to slam on the brakes to avoid getting into an accident.

 

    True to Red’s plan, they began tailing her, the steady stream of police cars arrowing in on her like hounds for the kill. But this fox didn’t intend to die today. Red grinned, hands gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles as she kept her foot on the pedal. Her eyes scanned the street signs and she planned her first loop around the city; going to take them through downtown and by the airport.

 

    Sighing, she lamented not having a designated pilot and put that on her To Hire list after this job. “Hun,” Red said, “we should hire a pilot.”

 

    “Do you know any pilots?”

 

    “No.”

 

    “Off to a bad start.”

 

    Egg laughed and Red squinted with mock annoyance before remembering no one could see her. “We’ll plan this later,” she said. Her right hand drifted from the wheel to the hand brake and as she approached a turn, she let off the gas and yanked the hand brake up a few clicks, and then swerved the corner around the liquor store. She sucked in a pained breath when her muscle stretched and made the bullet wound ache.

 

    Behind her, a police car clipped the sidewalk and flipped over, colliding with another car, and it began a domino effect of crashes. Her car began listing dangerously on two wheels and she released the hand brake. As her car thudded back on four wheels, she looked up and had just enough time to scream before a police car t-boned her. “I’m hit!” she shouted, hand coming up to grab her gun. “What’s your status?”

 

    “Oh god,” Huny breathed. “Eighty-something percent,” they said. “Oh god, please don’t die.”

 

    “I’m not going to die,” Red said. The police car knocked all her momentum out and her car was skittering sideways, towards a building. She rapidly fired her pistol at the police car to try and kill the driver. “I’m about to get sandwiched,” she reported, “once you finish, steal a car and drive to Safehouse 3.”

 

    “What about you?” Bee asked. She had already swept the outside of the building and ran inside to try helping Huny shove papers into their backpack. “We’re not leaving you behind.”

 

    “You have to,” Red said. Her voice was two degrees shy of desperate as she tried to maneuver her car free and kill the driver trying to pin her. “You have to finish this and get to safety.”

 

    “Fuck you,” Egg snarled. “We’re coming to get you.”

 

    Finally, she saw a splash of blood in their windshield and she immediately hit the gas to try and get free. Red’s car lurched forward and her back bumper clipped the building, spinning her out. “I’m free,” she shouted into the mic, “do  _ not _ come and get me.”

 

    “Bruise, Bee,” Huny said. “You stay with me.”

 

    Kuro looked down their building and began packing up their explosives to move. If Huny was calling the shots, then they were going to need to move soon.

 

    “Egg, Kuro,” Huny said, “get a police car and help Red.”

 

    “On it,” Egg said. They looked across the street at Kuro and signalled them to meet them in the street. They slung their rifle across their shoulders and jogged to the ladder to slide down.

 

    “No!” Red shouted. “Stick to the plan!”

 

    “Fuck your plan,” Huny nearly snarled. They checked the download progress and quirked their lips in displeasure. Eighty-seven percent wasn’t close enough. “Egg: drive, and Kuro: blow them up so Red can escape.”

 

    Thankfully, Bee didn’t riddle the police cars in the street to the point of explosion from when she emptied two clips into the first responders. Egg wrenched a door open, yanking the bodies out and starting the car. “Kuro,” they said. “Ready?”

 

    They jogged to the car, their bag of explosives thumping on their hip, and they slid into the passenger seat. Their duffel fit in the foot compartment and they pulled the police laptop into their lap. “Ready,” they said. The screen blinked awake at them and displayed the local area along with red dots for each police beacon in range. Kuro’s eyes widened slightly at the mass of red at the intersection of Seventh and Grand. “Hey, Red,” they said, “please don’t tell me you’re at Seventh and Grand.”

 

    “I am at Seventh and Grand,” Red said, briefly looking up at the street signs. Automatically, she ejected the magazine from her gun and pulled a face. “I am surrounded, out of bullets, and kinda mad.” Shoving her gun into her backpack, she stooped to put her laptop in as well when a bullet pinged off her window.

 

    “Fuck me,” Kuro breathed out as they and Egg turned the corner and saw the barricades around Red. They came to a hard stop behind some bushes, unable to do anything but watch as their leader was surrounded by three-deep police cars. Nearly every officer had a gun in their hand that was pointed at her.

 

    “We’ve got you surrounded!” someone said into a megaphone. “Get out of the car!”

 

    “What’s happening,” Huny asked. They were doing final sweeps of the office and sat back at the terminal. “We’re at ninety-five percent,” they said. “C’mon, Red, whatever you’re doing, please hurry up and finish it.”

 

    “Huny,” Red said, voice calm even as she stared down sixty gun barrels, “get a police car, grab Bruise and Bee, and drive to Safehouse 3.”

 

    “Only if you meet us there,” Huny said. They looked at Bee, who was standing in the room, and pointed outside to Bruise. “Get a car and yank out the beacon,” they told her.

 

    “Got it,” Bee said. “Bruise,” she said to get her attention. “Do you know what a beacon looks like because we need to get it out of the police car!”

 

    “Uh,” Bruise jogged over to a police car and gently kicked the dead bodies out. “Is it this blue thing?”

 

    Kuro looked at the beacon in their police car and nodded. “It should be the blue thing, yeah.” They looked at the butt of Egg’s rifle in the center console between their seats and sighed. “Can we hire another sniper? We could use the redundancies.”

 

    “I might know a guy,” Bruise said, ripping the beacon out of the dashboard and whipping it at the floor. The plastic casing shattered and they looked at Bee. “Also, we’re good to go.”

 

    Bee waved Huny down and Huny gave one more look at the monitor. “One hundred percent,” they said, “meet us there, Red, I swear to god if you don’t.”

 

    “She will,” Egg said. They recovered enough to shift gears in the car. Lightly pressing the accelerator to rev the engine, they looked at Kuro and asked, “are you ready to blow up half the LSPD?”

 

    “Fuck yeah, dude,” Kuro said. They shucked the police laptop off their lap and replaced it with their explosives bag. “Get ready, Red.”

 

    “This is your last chance!” the man with the megaphone said.

 

    “Hit it,” Kuro said.

 

    Egg gunned it from around the bushes and made a beeline for the barricade. As their car got close, they swerved the car and Kuro leaned out the window and began lobbing explosives. Red screamed as she balled up in her car so her head was not in the window. A heartbeat later, the explosions started going off and Egg fought the wheel to try and maintain control of the car. They shouted a long stream of expletives out the side of their window and were satisfied to see a flare of orange and white in their rear view mirrors as they drove away. “C’mon, Red,” they murmured.

 

    From the flames, Red’s van suddenly appeared; she glanced off the hood of a police car and, for a terrifying second, she caught air. The light from the fire was blinding but she kept her foot down on the pedal to escape. Using Egg and Kuro’s stolen police car as a guide, she kept on their tail. The both of them wove through traffic, cutting off other cars and taking turns so hard they bumped into each other. “Egg, pull off in the tunnel,” Red said.

 

    “What, why?”

 

    “We’re going to dump these cars and get a civ car,” she said. “They’ve seen this van and they have a beacon in yours. Even if you take it out, they know you stole a police car.”

 

    “Shit,” Kuro said. They looked at the police map and thought aloud, “they probably have a tracker in their own laptop, right?”

 

    “Probably,” Red said. Catching onto Kuro’s line of thinking, Red said, “we should hire an off site hacker or something. Someone that can coordinate us from not in the field.”

 

    “Long list,” Huny commented, “pilot, sniper, hacker…”. They were already pulling onto the freeway with a their police car and Bruise and Bee sat in the back seats. “We’re in the clear, by the way; you’d better keep your promise.”

 

    “I didn’t make that promise,” she said. She looked behind her and the explosions had died down. Most of the police cars were singed but two or three began rolling towards her. “Egg, what’s your status? Piggies behind me are getting ready to come after us.”

 

    Egg’s hand hovered over their rifle before deciding against it. “We’re coming up on the tunnel, if you can spin them out, Kuro and I can stop, grab a new car, and blow up our old cars for cover.”

 

    Smiling slightly, Red watched Egg’s car disappear into the tunnel and then looked in her rear view and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Sounds good,” she said. Decelerating, she lined up with the lead car behind her and hit the brakes as soon as they got too close. The impact made her slam her face into the air bag, but she was expecting it, and ripped a hole in it as soon as she regained her bearings to deflate it faster. Another car got alongside her and she gunned it to get in front of them, barely tilting her wheel until her back bumper knocked their front and they spun out. “One left,” she said. Glancing over her shoulder, she floored it.

 

    Egg flashed their lights at the car in front of them and, like a good citizen, they began pulling over at the sight of a police car. Once they got into the shoulder, Egg was out and running, pulling the man out of his car and throwing them onto the floor. “Out,” they growled. The man began reaching into their jacket, but Egg stomped on their hand and heard a crunching sound. “Leave,” they demanded.

 

    The man whimpered and ran away. “Kuro, get ready to blow these up,” they said, “Red, where are you?”

 

    “Incoming,” she said. Her car came hurtling past them at 80 miles an hour and she screeched as she turned. The skidmarks were black on the concrete as she did a 180 to face down her last pursuer who just entered the tunnel.

 

    “Red?” Kuro asked as they looked up from their task of loading up their stolen police car with explosives.

 

    “What is Red doing?” Huny asked. “Is it something I can sew her back together from?”

 

    “Please be something Huny can sew her back together from,” Bruise mumbled.

 

    “Hun, do you think you can sew her back together if she plows into another car head on at mach speed?” Egg asked.

 

    “EXCUSE ME.”

 

    Red slammed her foot down and her wheels bounced as they tried to get traction. Lurching forward, she zipped by Egg and Kuro and they were buffeted by the knockback draft. With one hand, she unclicked her seat belt and snagged her backpack with her laptop. Just before she was going to collide with the last police car, she jumped out. Her momentum carried her forward, but her trajectory meant she skidded at an angle away from the resulting explosion.

 

    Her empty van and the last police car crunched then exploded, their gas tanks taking too much force before the tearing metal sparked and caused the gas to ignite. The explosion echoed in the tunnel and caused a chain reaction of chaos as cars around them began swerving to a stop and clogging up the opening to the tunnel. Red bounced and rolled and there was a trail of blood from where she was thrown from the van and came to a stop.

 

    Egg was running before they realized they’d moved from the car they just stole. “Jenn!” they shouted, hands reaching for her. Her back was to them and they saw a pool of blood begin spreading from her, soaking the floor and her backpack. “God,” they said. “JENN!”

 

    “Jenn,” Bee said, hands balled into fists in her lap. She looked out the window and tried to ease the panic but couldn’t stop her heart from hammering out of her chest.

 

    Sliding into a kneeled position, they flipped Red onto her back and there were a billion little scratches and scrapes all along her body. Her eyes were closed and for the longest of seconds, Egg felt dread in their stomach. They brought a hand up to her neck to check her pulse.

 

    Red’s eyes sprang open and she jolted when their fingers touched her neck. She curled in on herself and Egg grabbed her by the shoulder to stop her. “We have to go,” they said, trying to calm their voice to not freak her out.

 

    “Huh?” she asked, eyes blown wide with fear. She looked like she was staring through them and it made Egg hesitate.

 

    “Red?”

 

    “No,” she said, brows furrowed in confusion. “My name is Bluejay.”

 

    Kuro came running and their footsteps made Red’s eyes flick to them. All of a sudden, she seemed to return to present time and look back at Egg. “Jenn?” Egg asked again.

 

    “Egg,” she said, as if to confirm they existed. “Yes,” she said, “escape.”

 

    “Yeah,” Egg said. “Can you walk?”

 

    Red tried sitting herself up but she made a pained face. “I don’t think I can.”

 

    Kuro finally caught up to them and immediately put an arm around Red’s waist and scooped up her backpack. “We have to go  _ now _ ,” Kuro said. With Egg at her other side, they carried her to the civilian car, putting her in the back seat as Kuro took the driver’s side and Egg took passenger’s. They found their rifle already in the chair and a detonator waiting for them. Once they got far enough away, they hit the button.

 

    As the fires from the initial collision went down, the last of Kuro’s explosives in the abandoned van and police car lit up the tunnel and Egg felt the heat of it through their open window. They kept their rifle in their hand before a thought occurred to them. “Red, do you have your pistol? It would be easier to use in the car than my rifle.”

 

    Egg glanced back and saw Red pressing her hands to her shoulder wound. “I’m out of bullets,” she said. “Your rifle doesn’t use .22s.”

 

    “Kuro?” Egg asked.

 

    “Don’t look at me, dude,” they said, keeping their eyes on the road. The darkness would give them cover for now, but they had better be at the safehouse by the time the sun rose. “I’m out of explosives.”

 

    “Status,” Huny asked. They looked at the fuel gage and frowned. “We’re going to need to stop for gas soon, so we can grab some info at the station.”

 

    “We might need to ditch the car though, because none of us have a badge or look like a police officer,” Bruise said. Bee made a noise and Bruise looked at her. She pulled out three police badges and a bulletproof vest from seemingly nowhere. “Or not?”

 

    Passing a badge to Bruise and then tapping on the divide between them and Huny, she said, “I thought they’d come in handy in a later heist, but now is good too.”

 

    “I love you,” Huny said with a smile.

 

    “Aw, I love you too!”

 

    Kuro smiled and was about to say something before they realized their peripherals weren’t there. “Egg,” they said, “we should probably take our masks off to blend in better.”

 

    Egg opened and closed their hands. “Okay,” they finally agreed, pulling their chicken mask off. Once Kuro took theirs off, they put it in Egg’s outstretched hand. “Jenn, can you put this in your backpack?”

 

    Red reached forward, taking the masks and depositing them in her bag. Her fingers traced the cover of her laptop. “Wait,” she mumbled to herself softly. Pulling herself into a sitting position with a groan, she took out her laptop and opened it. Through some miracle, the screen was cracked in three places, but still functional for the most part. She gasped and began checking the news sites for information on their break-in. Her page was filled with “Breaking News” banners and blurry shots from what looked like police body cameras, but none of them had any good shots of the crew.

 

    That is, until she scrolled down on one news site and found a dash cam still from when she got surrounded by thirty cars. It might have just been her face in the window, but that was enough. “Shit, they got a picture of me,” she said.

 

    “That’s fine,” Egg immediately said, “just wear a mask from now on.”

 

    Red scrunched her face up in displeasure and Egg nearly laughed.

 

    “What happened?” Huny asked. “Is Red’s comm gone?”

 

    Kuro blinked before glancing over their shoulder. “Red, is your comm gone?”

 

    She brought a hand up and gently touched her ear. “Yeah,” she said, fingers grazing a missing section of skin and making her wince, “it must have fallen out when I jumped.” She kept reading the news articles and the initial impressions didn’t mention Councilmember Stevenson’s office, only that there was a break in in the area and it led to a police confrontation. Good, the element of surprise was on their side.

 

    “I think we’re in the clear,” Red said. She continued to scan the articles but there wasn’t enough information. They covered their tracks well enough for now, but her blood was definitely smeared everywhere. “I wish we had someone on the inside of the LSPD,” she sighed, “someone that could wipe evidence or double check for us.”

 

    “Red says we’re good,” Egg relayed to Huny, Bruise, and Bee. “She also said she wants to hire some narc.”

 

    “A pilot, a sniper, a hacker, and a narc,” Huny listed on one hand. “We’re going to be hard pressed to hire anyone right now.”

 

    “They might join because of our prestige,” Bruise countered. “We’re in the big leagues now.”

 

    “Do you think people are going to join because our rep?” Bee asked. “All of us joined because we mugged Red.”

 

    “I didn’t mug her,” Kuro said. “I blew up her first van.”

 

    “I didn’t mug her either,” Huny said. “I stitched up multiple stab wounds and she stayed.”

 

    There was a giggle in the comm and that made everyone break into laughter. It might have been the nerves keeping everyone on edge, but it was beginning to look like the end of a successful heist. “What’s the joke?” Red asked, but the smile on her face betrayed her.

 

    “Nothing,” Egg said, lips quirking up. “Just realizing that your earlier hiring method might not fly now that we’re ‘big names’.” Red huffed a laugh before yawning. She knew she should stay online to keep up to date with the news, but the blood loss was making her head fuzzy. Egg noticed and glanced in the side mirror before shifting their attention to Red. “Sleep,” they said. “We’ll be at the safehouse when you wake up.”

 

    Red began to put away her laptop and list over so she could lay down. “Promise to wake me if something happens?”

 

    “I promise.”

 

    Red smiled. “Thank you,” she said. After a pause, she added, “can you tell everyone that I said good job?”

 

    “I will.”

 

    “Thanks,” Red said. Closing her eyes, she undid the knot from Bruise’s jacket around her shoulder, readjusted it, tied it again, and then closed her eyes to sleep.


End file.
